UC-NRLF 


LOST  SHII 

AND    ' 

LONELY 
SEAS 


RALPH  D.PAINE 


LOST    SHIPS 

AND 
LONELY    SEAS 


~ 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE  POLLY 

From   a   painting  by   Frederick  J.  Waugh 


LOST    SHIPS 

AND 

LONELY    SEAS 


BY 


RALPH  D.  PAINE 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO, 


Copyright,  1920,  1921,  by 
THE  C«KTUBT  Co. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTm  PAGE 

I     THE  SINGULAR  FATE  OF  THE  BRIO  POLLY     .      .       3 

II     How   THE    SCHOONER   EXERTION    FELL   AMONG 

THIEVES          25 

III     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA     .      .      .51 

IV    THE    WRECK    OF    THE    BLENDEN    HALL,    EAST 

INDIAMAN 76 

V    THE   ADVENTURES  OF   DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF 

MATE 107 

VI     CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  ON  THE  COAST  OF  BARBARY     .   131 
VII     FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  AN  OPEN  BOAT     .      .   160 

VIII     THE  FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED  IN  THE  SOUTH 

SEAS       , 189 

IX  WHEN  H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  DROVE  ASHORE     .      .  212 

X  THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY     .....  232 

XI  THE  Loss  OF  THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR   '  .     .  259 

XII  THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT     .      .   288 

XIII  THE  GRIM  TALE  OF  THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY   .  309 

XIV  THE  STORM-SWEPT  FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES   .  330 

XV     THE   BRISK   YARN  OF  THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVA- 
TEER        850 

XVI     LUCKLESS  SEAMAN  LONG  IN  EXILE     ....  367 
XVII     THE  NOBLE  KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS  .  393 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  wreck  of  the  Polly Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAOK 

Seamanship  was  helpless  to  ward  off  the  attack  of  the 

storm  that  left  the  brig  a  sodden  hulk      ...»       8 

Fresh  water  trickled  from  the  end  of  the  pistol-barrel, 

and  they  caught  it  in  a  tin  cup 16 

Volusia  off  Salem,  built  at  Falmouth,  Mass.,  in  1801,  and 

Wrecked  at  Cape  Cod  in  1802 20 

The  pirate  captain  boarding  the  captured  Exertion     .      .      29 

Armed  with  as  many  of  the  aforementioned  weapons  as 

they  could  well  sling  about  their  bodies     ....      33 

Boats  were  filled  with  men  whose  only  thought  was  to 

save  their  skins 56 

The  brig,  which  had  made  a  long  tack  and  was  now  steer- 
ing straight  toward  the  raft 64 

Governor  Glass  and  his  residence 97 

Woodard  raised  his  empty  hands  to  ask  for  peace  and 

mercy 112 

Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor  on  the  coast  of  Caffraria      .      .144 
Early  American  ship  of  the  18th  Century      .      .      .      .176 

Perilous  situation  of  the  ship 224 

The  Charlemagne,  a  New  York  packet  ship     ....   272 

Brig  Topaz  of  Newport,  built  in  1807 305 

The  brig  Olinda  of  Salem,  built  in  1825 352 

Taking  on  the  pilot  in  the  18th  Century 384 


LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 


LOST  SHIPS 
AND  LONELY  SEAS 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  SINGULAR   FATE  OF  THE  BKIG  POLLT 

"Oh,  night  and  day  the  ships  come  in, 
The  ships  both  great  and  small, 
But  never  one  among  them  brings 
A  word  of  him  at  all. 
From  Port  o'  Spain  and  Trinidad, 
From  Rio  or  Funchal, 
And  along  the  coast  of  Barbary." 

STEAM  has  not  banished  from  the  deep  sea  the 
ships  that  lift  tall  spires  of  canvas  to  win  their 
way  from  port  to  port.  The  gleam  of  their  topsails 
recalls  the  centuries  in  which  men  wrought  with 
stubborn  courage  to  fashion  fabrics  of  wood  and 
cordage  that  should  survive  the  enmity  of  the  im- 
placable ocean  and  make  the  winds  obedient. 
Their  genius  was  unsung,  their  hard  toil  forgotten, 
but  with  each  generation  the  sailing  ship  became 
nobler  and  more  enduring,  until  it  was  a  perfect 
thing.  Its  great  days  live  in  memory  with  a  pecul- 


4   LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

iar  atmosphere  of  romance.  Its  humming  shrouds 
were  vibrant  with  the  eternal  call  of  the  sea,  and  in 
a  phantom  fleet  pass  the  towering  East  Indiaman, 
the  hard-driven  Atlantic  packet,  and  the 
gracious  clipper  that  fled  before  the  Southern 
trades. 

A  hundred  years  ago  every  bay  and  inlet  of  the 
New  England  coast  was  building  ships  which  fared 
bravely  forth  to  the  West  Indies,  to  the  roadsteads 
of  Europe,  to  the  mysterious  havens  of  the  Far 
East.  They  sailed  in  peril  of  pirate  and  privateer, 
and  fought  these  rascals  as  sturdily  as  they  battled 
with  wicked  weather.  Coasts  were  unlighted,  the 
seas  uncharted,  and  navigation  was  mostly  by  guess- 
work, but  these  seamen  were  the  flower  of  an  Amer- 
ican merchant  marine  whose  deeds  are  heroic  in 
the  nation's  story.  Great  hearts  in  little  ships,  they 
dared  and  suffered  with  simple,  uncomplaining  for- 
titude. Shipwreck  was  an  incident,  and  to  be  adrift 
in  lonely  seas  or  cast  upon  a  barbarous  shore  was 
sadly  commonplace.  They  lived  the  stuff  that 
made  fiction  after  they  were  gone. 

Your  fancy  may  be  able  to  picture  the  brig  Polly 
as  she  steered  down  Boston  harbor  in  December, 
1811,  bound  out  to  Santa  Cruz  with  lumber  and 
salted  provisions  for  the  slaves  of  the  sugar  planta- 
tions. She  was  only  a  hundred  and  thirty  tons 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY         5 

burden  and  perhaps  eighty  feet  long.  Rather 
clumsy  to  look  at  and  roughly  built  was  the  Polly  as 
compared  with  the  larger  ships  that  brought  home 
the  China  tea  and  silks  to  the  warehouses  of  Salem. 
Such  a  vessel  was  a  community  venture.  The 
blacksmith,  the  rigger,  and  the  calker  took  their  pay 
in  shares,  or  "pieces."  They  became  part  owners, 
as  did  likewise  the  merchant  who  supplied  stores 
and  material ;  and  when  the  brig  was  afloat,  the  mas- 
ter, the  mate,  and  even  the  seamen  were  allowed 
cargo  space  for  commodities  that  they  might  buy 
and  sell  to  their  own  advantage.  A  voyage  directly 
concerned  a  whole  neighborhood. 

Every  coastwise  village  had  a  row  of  keel-blocks 
sloping  to  the  tide.  In  winter  weather  too  rough 
for  fishing,  when  the  farms  lay  idle,  the  Yankee 
Jack  of  all  trades  plied  his  axe  and  adz  to  shape  the 
timbers  and  peg  together  such  a  little  vessel  as  the 
Polly,  in  which  to  trade  to  London  or  Cadiz  or  the 
Windward  Islands.  Hampered  by  an  unfriendly 
climate,  hard  put  to  it  to  grow  sufficient  food,  with 
land  immensely  difficult  to  clear,  the  New-Eng- 
lander  was  between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea,  and 
he  sagaciously  chose  the  latter.  Elsewhere,  in  the 
early  days,  the  forest  was  an  enemy,  to  be  destroyed 
with  great  pains.  The  pioneers  of  Massachusetts, 
Xew  Hampshire,  and  Maine  regarded  it  with  favor 


6       LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

as  the  stuff  with  which  to  make  stout  ships  and  the 
straight  masts  they  "stepped"  in  them. 

Nowadays,  such  a  little  craft  as  the  Polly  would 
be  rigged  as  a  schooner.  The  brig  is  obsolete,  along 
with  the  quaint  array  of  scows,  ketches,  pinks,  brig- 
antines,  and  sloops  which  once  filled  the  harbors 
and  hove  their  hempen  cables  short  to  the  clank  of 
windlass  or  capstan-pawl,  while  the  brisk  seamen 
sang  a  chantey  to  help  the  work  along.  The  Polly 
had  yards  on  both  masts,  and  it  was  a  bitter  task 
to  lay  out  in  a  gale  of  wind  and  reef  the  unwieldy 
single  topsails.  She  would  try  for  no  record  pas- 
sages, but  jogged  sedately,  and  snugged  down 
when  the  weather  threatened. 

On  this  tragic  voyage  she  carried  a  small  crew, 
Captain  W.  L.  Cazneau,  a  mate,  four  sailors,  and 
a  cook  who  was  a  native  Indian.  No  mention  is  to 
be  found  of  any  ill  omens  that  forecasted  disaster, 
such  as  a  black  cat,  or  a  cross-eyed  Finn  in  the  fore- 
castle. Two  passengers  were  on  board,  "Mr.  J.  S. 
Hunt  and  a  negro  girl  nine  years  old."  We  know 
nothing  whatever  about  Mr.  Hunt,  who  may  have 
been  engaged  in  some  trading  "adventure"  of  his 
own.  Perhaps  his  kinsfolk  had  waved  him  a  fare- 
ye-well  from  the  pier-head  when  the  Polly  warped 
out  of  her  berth. 

The  lone  piccaninny  is  more  intriguing.     She  ap- 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY         7 

peals  to  the  imagination  and  inspires  conjecture. 
Was  she  a  waif  of  the  slave  traffic  whom  some  be- 
nevolent merchant  of  Boston  was  sending  to  Santa 
.Cruz  to  find  a  home  beneath  kindlier  skies?  Had 
she  been  entrusted  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Hunt?  She 
is  unexplained,  a  pitiful  atom  visible  for  an  instant 
on  the  tide  of  human  destiny.  She  amused  the 
sailors,  no  doubt,  and  that  austere,  copper-hued 
cook  may  have  unbent  to  give  her  a  doughnut  when 
she  grinned  at  the  galley-door. 

Four  days  out  from  Boston,  on  December  15,  the 
Polly  had  cleared  the  perilous  sands  of  Cape  Cod 
and  the  hidden  shoals  of  the  Georges.  Mariners 
were  profoundly  grateful  when  they  had  safely 
worked  offshore  in  the  winter-time  and  were  past 
Cape  Cod,  which  bore  a  very  evil  repute  in  those 
days  of  square-rigged  vessels.  Captain  Cazneau 
could  recall  that  somber  day  of  1802  when  three  fine 
ships,  the  Ulysses,  Brutus,  and  Folusia,  sailing  to- 
gether from  Salem  for  European  ports,  were 
wrecked  next  day  on  Cape  Cod.  The  fate  of  those 
who  were  washed  ashore  alive  was  most  melancholy. 
Several  died  of  the  cold,  or  were  choked  by  the  sand 
which  covered  them  after  they  fell  exhausted. 

As  in  other  regions  where  shipwrecks  were  com- 
mon, some  of  the  natives  of  Cape  Cod  regarded  a 
ship  on  the  beach  as  their  rightful  plunder.  It  was 


8      LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

old  Parson  Lewis  of  Wellfleet,  who,  from  his  pulpit 
window,  saw  a  vessel  drive  ashore  on  a  stormy  Sun- 
day morning.  "He  closed  his  Bible,  put  on  his  out- 
side garment,  and  descended  from  the  pulpit,  not 
explaining  his  intention  until  he  was  in  the  aisle, 
and  then  he  cried  out,  'Start  fair3  and  took  to  his 
legs.  The  congregation  understood  and  chased 
pell-mell  after  him." 

The  brig  Polly  laid  her  course  to  the  southward 
and  sailed  into  the  safer,  milder  waters  of  the  Gulf 
Stream.  The  skipper's  load  of  anxiety  was  light- 
ened. He  had  not  been  sighted  and  molested  by 
the  British  men-of-war  that  cruised  off  Boston  and 
New  York  to  hold  up  Yankee  merchantmen  and 
impress  stout  seamen.  This  grievance  was  to  flame 
in  a  righteous  war  only  a  few  months  later.  Many 
a  voyage  was  ruined,  and  ships  had  to  limp  back  to 
port  short-handed,  because  their  best  men  had  been 
kidnapped  to  serve  in  British  ships.  It  was  an  age 
when  might  was  right  on  the  sea. 

The  storm  which  overwhelmed  the  brig  Polly 
came  out  of  the  southeast,  when  she  was  less  than  a 
week  on  the  road  to  Santa  Cruz.  To  be  dismasted 
and  water-logged  was  no  uncommon  fate.  It  hap- 
pens often  nowadays,  when  the  little  schooners  creep 
along  the  coast,  from  Maine  and  Nova  Scotia  ports, 
and  dare  the  winter  blows  to  earn  their  bread. 


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FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY         9 

Men  suffer  in  open  boats,  as  has  been  the  seafarer's 
hard  lot  for  ages,  and  they  drown  with  none  to  hear 
their  cries,  but  they  are  seldom  adrift  more  than  a 
few  days.  The  story  of  the  Polly  deserves  to  be 
rescued  from  oblivion  because,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to 
discover,  it  is  unique  in  the  spray-swept  annals  of 
maritime  disaster. 

Seamanship  was  helpless  to  ward  off  the  attack 
of  the  storm  that  left  the  brig  a  sodden  hulk.  Cour- 
ageously her  crew  shortened  sail  and  made  all  se- 
cure when  the  sea  and  sky  presaged  a  change  of 
weather.  These  were  no  green  hands,  but  men  sea- 
soned by  the  continual  hazards  of  their  calling. 
The  wild  gale  smote  them  in  the  darkness  of  night. 
They  tried  to  heave  the  vessel  to,  but  she  was  bat- 
tered and  wrenched  without  mercy.  Stout  canvas 
was  whirled  away  in  fragments.  The  seams  of  the 
hull  opened  as  she  labored,  and  six  feet  of  water 
flooded  the  hold.  Leaking  like  a  sieve,  the  Polly 
would  never  see  port  again. 

Worse  was  to  befall  her.  At  midnight  she  was 
capsized,  or  thrown  on  her  beam-ends,  as  the  sailor's 
lingo  has  it.  She  lay  on  her  side  while  the  clamor- 
ous seas  washed  clean  over  her.  The  skipper,  the 
mate,  the  four  seamen,  and  the  cook  somehow  clung 
to  the  rigging  and  grimly  refused  to  be  drowned. 
They  were  of  the  old  breed,  "every  hair  a  rope-yarn 


10     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

and  every  finger  a  fish-hook."  They  even  managed 
to  find  an  ax  and  grope  their  way  to  the  shrouds  in 
the  faint  hope  that  the  brig  might  right  if  the  masts 
went  overside.  They  hacked  away,  and  came  up  to 
breathe  now  and  then,  until  foremast  and  mainmast 
fell  with  a  crash,  and  the  wreck  rolled  level.  Then 
they  slashed  with  their  knives  at  the  tangle  of  spars 
and  ropes  until  they  drifted  clear.  As  the  waves 
rush  across  a  half -tide  rock,  so  they  broke  over 
the  shattered  brig,  but  she  no  longer  wallowed  on 
her  side. 

At  last  the  stormy  daylight  broke.  The  mariners 
had  survived,  and  they  looked  to  find  their  two  pas- 
sengers, who  had  no  other  refuge  than  the  cabin. 
Mr.  Hunt  was  gone,  blotted  out  with  his  affairs  and 
his  ambitions,  whatever  they  were.  The  colored 
child  they  had  vainly  tried  to  find  in  the  night. 
When  the  sea  boiled  into  the  cabin  and  filled  it,  she 
had  climbed  to  the  skylight  in  the  roof,  and  there 
she  clung  like  a  bat.  They  hauled  her  out  through 
a  splintered  gap,  and  sought  tenderly  to  shelter  her 
in  a  corner  of  the  streaming  deck,  but  she  lived  no 
more  than  a  few  hours.  It  was  better  that  this  bit 
of  human  flotsam  should  flutter  out  in  this  way  than 
to  linger  a  little  longer  in  this  forlorn  derelict  of  a 
ship.  The  Potty  could  not  sink,  but  she  drifted  as 
a  mere  bundle  of  boards  with  the  ocean  winds  and 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       11 

currents,  while  seven  men  tenaciously  fought  off 
death  and  prayed  for  rescue. 

The  gale  blew  itself  out,  the  sea  rolled  blue  and 
gentle,  and  the  wreck  moved  out  into  the  Atlantic, 
having  veered  beyond  the  eastern  edge  of  the  Gulf 
Stream.  There  was  raw  salt  pork  and  beef  to  eat, 
nothing  else,  barrels  of  which  they  fished  out  of  the 
cargo.  A  keg  of  water  which  had  been  lashed  to 
the  quarter-deck  was  found  to  contain  thirty  gal- 
lons. This  was  all  there  was  to  drink,  for  the  other 
water-casks  had  been  smashed  or  carried  away. 
The  diet  of  meat  pickled  in  brine  aggravated  the 
thirst  of  these  castaways.  For  twelve  days  they 
chewed  on  this  salty  raw  stuff,  and  then  the  Indian 
cook,  Moho  by  name,  actually  succeeded  in  kindling 
a  fire  by  rubbing  two  sticks  together  in  some  ab- 
struse manner  handed  down  by  his  ancestors.  By 
splitting  pine  spars  and  a  bit  of  oaken  rail  he  was 
able  to  find  in  the  heart  of  them  wood  which  had  not 
been  dampened  by  the  sea,  and  he  sweated  and 
grunted  until  the  great  deed  was  done.  It  was  a 
trick  which  he  was  not  at  all  sure  of  repeating  un- 
less the  conditions  were  singularly  favorable.  For- 
tunately for  the  hapless  crew  of  the  Polly,  their 
Puritan  grandsires  had  failed  in  their  amiable  en- 
deavor to  exterminate  the  aborigine. 

The  tiny  galley,  or  "camboose,"  as  they  called  it, 


12     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

was  lashed  to  ring-bolts  in  the  deck,  and  had  not 
been  washed  into -the  sea  when  the  brig  was  swept 
clean.  So  now  they  patched  it  up  and  got  a  blaze 
going  in  the  brick  oven.  The  meat  could  be  boiled, 
and  they  ate  it  without  stint,  assuming  that  a  hun- 
dred barrels  of  it  remained  in  the  hold.  It  had  not 
been  discovered  that  the  stern-post  of  the  vessel  was 
staved  in  under  water  and  all  of  the  cargo  excepting 
some  of  the  lumber  had  floated  out. 

The  cask  of  water  was  made  to  last  eighteen  days 
by  serving  out  a  quart  a  day  to  each  man.  Then  an 
occasional  rain-squall  saved  them  for  a  little  longer 
from  perishing  of  thirst.  At  the  end  of  forty  days 
they  had  come  to  the  last  morsel  of  salt  meat.  The 

Polly  was  following  an  aimless  course  to  the  east- 
ward, drifting  slowly  under  the  influence  of  the 

ocean  winds  and  currents.  These  gave  her  also  a 
southerly  slant,  so  that  she  was  caught  by  that  vast 
movement  of  water  which  is  known  as  the  Gulf 
Stream  Drift.  It  sets  over  toward  the  coast  of 
Africa  and  sweeps  into  the  Gulf  of  Guinea. 

The  derelict  was  moving  away  from  the  routes  of 
trade  to  Europe  into  the  almost  trackless  spaces  be- 
neath the  tropic  sun,  where  the  sea  glittered  empty 
to  the  horizon.  There  was  a  remote  chance  that  she 
might  be  descried  by  a  low-hulled  slaver  crowding 
for  the  West  Indies  under  a  mighty  press  of  sail, 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       13 

with  her  human  freightage  jammed  between  decks 
to  endure  the  unspeakable  horrors  of  the  Middle 
Passage.  Although  the  oceans  were  populous  with 
ships  a  hundred  years  ago,  trade  flowed  on  habitual 
routes.  Moreover,  a  wreck  might  pass  unseen  two 
or  three  miles  away.  From  the  quarter-deck  of  a 
small  sailing  ship  there  was  no  such  circle  of  vision 
as  extends  from  the  bridge  of  a  steamer  forty  or 
sixty  feet  above  the  water,  where  the  officers  gaze 
through  high-powered  binoculars. 

The  crew  of  the  Polly  stared  at  skies  which 
yielded  not  the  merciful  gift  of  rain.  They  had 
strength  to  build  them  a  sort  of  shelter  of  lumber, 
but  whenever  the  weather  was  rough,  they  were 
drenched  by  the  waves  which  played  over  the  wreck. 
At  the  end  of  fifty  days  of  this  hardship  and 
torment  the  seven  were  still  alive,  but  then  the 
mate,  Mr.  Paddock,  languished  and  died.  It 
surprised  his  companions,  for,  as  the  old  record 
runs, 

he  was  a  man  of  robust  constitution  who  had  spent  his 
life  in  fishing  on  the  Grand  Banks,  was  accustomed  to 
endure  privations,  and  appeared  the  most  capable  of 
standing  the  shocks  of  misfortune  of  any  of  the  crew.  In 
the  meridian  of  life,  being  about  thirty-five  years  old,  it 
was  reasonable  to  suppose  that,  instead  of  the  first,  he 
would  have  been  the  last  to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  hunger  and 
thirst  and  exposure,  but  Heaven  ordered  it  otherwise. 


14     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Singularly  enough,  the  next  to  go  was  a  young 
seaman,  spare  and  active,  who  was  also  a  fisherman 
by  trade.  His  name  was  Howe.  He  survived  six 
days  longer  than  the  mate,  and  "likewise  died  de- 
lirious and  in  dreadful  distress."  Fleeting  thun- 
der-showers had  come  to  save  the  others,  and 
they  had  caught  a  large  shark  by  means  of  a  run- 
ning bowline  slipped  over  his  tail  while  he  nosed 
about  the  weedy  hull.  This  they  cut  up  and  doled 
out  for  many  days.  It  was  certain,  however,  that 
unless  they  could  obtain  water  to  drink  they  would 
soon  be  all  dead  men  on  the  Polly. 

Captain  Cazneau  seems  to  have  been  a  sailor  of 
extraordinary  resource  and  resolution.  His  was 
the  unbreakable  will  to  live  and  to  endure  which 
kept  the  vital  spark  flickering  in  his  shipmates. 
Whenever  there  was  strength  enough  among  them, 
they  groped  in  the  water  in  the  hold  and  cabin  in 
the  desperate  hope  of  finding  something  to  serve 
their  needs.  In  this  manner  they  salvaged  an  iron 
tea-kettle  and  one  of  the  captain's  flint-lock  pistols. 
Instead  of  flinging  them  away,  he  sat  down  to  cogi- 
tate, a  gaunt,  famished  wraith  of  a  man  who  had 
kept  his  wits  and  knew  what  to  do  with  them. 

At  length  he  took  an  iron  pot  from  the  galley, 
turned  the  tea-kettle  upside  down  on  it,  and  found 
that  the  rims  failed  to  fit  together.  Undismayed, 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       15 

the  skipper  whittled  a  wooden  collar  with  a  sea- 
man's sheath-knife,  and  so  joined  the  pot  and  the 
kettle.  With  strips  of  cloth  and  pitch  scraped 
from  the  deck-beams,  he  was  able  to  make  a  tight 
union  where  his  round  wooden  frame  set  into  the 
flaring  rim  of  the  pot.  Then  he  knocked  off  the 
stock  of  the  pistol  and  had  the  long  barrel  to  use 
for  a  tube.  This  he  rammed  into  the  nozzle  of  the 
tea-kettle,  and  calked  them  as  well  as  he  could. 
The  result  was  a  crude  apparatus  for  distilling  sea- 
water,  when  placed  upon  the  bricked  oven  of  the 
galley. 

Imagine  those  three  surviving  seamen  and  the 
stolid  redskin  of  a  cook  watching  the  skipper  while 
he  methodically  tinkered  and  puttered!  It  was 
absolutely  the  one  and  final  chance  of  salvation. 
Their  lips  were  black  and  cracked  and  swollen,  their 
tongues  lolled,  and  they  could  no  more  than  wheeze 
when  they  tried  to  talk.  There  was  now  a  less  pre- 
carious way  of  making  fire  than  by  rubbing  dry 
sticks  together.  This  had  failed  them  most  of  the 
time.  The  captain  had  saved  the  flint  and  steel 
from  the  stock  of  his  pistol.  There  was  tow  or 
tarry  oakum  to  be  shredded  fine  and  used  for  tinder. 
This  smoldered  and  then  burst  into  a  tiny  blaze 
when  the  sparks  flew  from  the  flint,  and  they  knew 
that  they  would  not  lack  the  blessed  boon  of  fire. 


16     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Together  they  lifted  the  precious  contrivance  of 
the  pot  and  the  kettle  and  tottered  with  it  to  the  gal- 
ley. There  was  an  abundance  of  fuel  from  the  lum- 
ber, which  was  hauled  through  a  hatch  and  dried  on 
deck.  Soon  the  steam  was  gushing  from  the  pistol- 
barrel,  and  they  poured  cool  salt  water  over  the  up- 
turned spout  of  the  tea-kettle  to  cause  condensation. 
Fresh  water  trickled  from  the  end  of  the  pistol- 
barrel,  and  they  caught  it  in  a  tin  cup.  It  was 
scarcely  more  than  a  drop  at  a  time,  but  they  stoked 
the  oven  and  lugged  buckets  of  salt  water,  watch 
and  watch,  by  night  and  day.  They  roused  in  their 
sleep  to  go  on  with  the  task  with  a  sort  of  dumb  in- 
stinct. They  were  like  wretched  automatons. 

So  scanty  was  the  allowance  of  water  obtained 
that  each  man  was  limited  to  "four  small  wine 
glasses"  a  day,  perhaps  a  pint.  It  was  enough  to 
permit  them  to  live  and  suffer  and  hope.  In  the 
warm  seas  which  now  cradled  the  Polly  the  bar- 
nacles grew  fast.  The  captain,  the  cook,  and  the 
three  seamen  scraped  them  off  and  for  some  time 
had  no  other  food.  They  ate  these  shell-fish  mostly 
raw,  because  cooking  interfered  with  that  tiny 
trickle  of  condensed  water. 

The  faithful  cook  was  the  next  of  the  five  to  suc- 
cumb. He  expired  in  March,  after  they  had  been 
three  months  adrift,  and  the  manner  of  his  death 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       17 

was  quiet  and  dignified,  as  befitted  one  who  might 
have  been  a  painted  warrior  in  an  earlier  day.  The 
account  says  of  him: 

On  the  15th  of  March,  according  to  their  computa- 
tion, poor  Moho  gave  up  the  ghost,  evidently  from  want 
of  water,  though  with  much  less  distress  than  the  others, 
and  in  the  full  exercise  of  his  reason.  He  very  devoutly 
prayed  and  appeared  perfectly  resigned  to  the  will  of 
God  who  had  so  sorely  afflicted  him. 

The  story  of  the  Polly  is  unstained  by  any  horrid 
episode  of  cannibalism,  which  occurs  now  and  then 
in  the  old  chronicles  of  shipwreck.  In  more  than 
one  seaport  the  people  used  to  point  at  some 
weather-beaten  mariner  who  was  reputed  to  have 
eaten  the  flesh  of  a  comrade.  It  made  a  marked 
man  of  him,  he  was  shunned,  and  the  unholy  no- 
toriety followed  him  to  other  ships  and  ports.  The 
sailors  of  the  Polly  did  cut  off  a  leg  of  the  poor,  de- 
parted Moho,  and  used  it  as  bait  for  sharks,  and 
they  actually  caught  a  huge  shark  by  so  doing. 

It  was  soon  after  this  that  they  found  the  other 
pistol  of  the  pair,  and  employed  the  barrel  to  in- 
crease the  capacity  of  the  still.  By  lengthening  the 
tube  attached  to  the  spout  of  the  tea-kettle,  they 
gained  more  cooling  surface  for  condensation,  and 
the  flow  of  fresh  water  now  amounted  to  "eight 
junk  bottles  full"  every  twenty-four  hours.  Be- 


18     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

sides  this,  wooden  gutters  were  hung  at  the  eaves  of 
the  galley  and  of  the  rough  shed  in  which  they  lived, 
and  whenever  rain  fell,  it  ran  into  empty  casks. 

The  crew  was  dwindling  fast.  In  April,  another 
seaman,  Johnson  by  name,  slipped  his  moorings  and 
passed  on  to  the  haven  of  Fiddler's  Green,  where 
the  souls  of  all  dead  mariners  may  sip  their  grog  and 
spin  their  yarns  and  rest  from  the  weariness  of  the 
sea.  Three  men  were  left  aboard  the  Polly,  the 
captain  and  two  sailors. 

The  brig  drifted  into  that  fabled  area  of  the  At- 
lantic that  is  known  as  the  Sargasso  Sea,  which  ex- 
tends between  latitudes  16°  and  38°  North,  between 
the  Azores  and  the  Antilles.  Here  the  ocean  cur- 
rents are  confused  and  seem  to  move  in  circles,  with 
a  great  expanse  of  stagnant  ocean,  where  the  sea- 
weed floats  in  tangled  patches  of  red  and  brown  and 
green.  It  was  an  old  legend  that  ships  once  caught 
in  the  Sargasso  Sea  were  unable  to  extricate  them- 
selves, and  so  rotted  miserably  and  were  never 
heard  of  again.  Columbus  knew  better,  for  his  car- 
avels sailed  through  these  broken  carpets  of  weed, 
where  the  winds  were  so  small  and  fitful  that  the 
Genoese  sailors  despaired  of  reaching  anywhere. 
The  myth  persisted  and  it  was  not  dispelled  until 
the  age  of  steam.  The  doldrums  of  the  Sargasso 
Sea  were  the  dread  of  sailing  ships. 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       19 

The  days  and  weeks  of  blazing  calms  in  this 
strange  wilderness  of  ocean  mattered  not  to  the 
blindly  errant  wreck  of  the  Polly.  She  was  a  dead 
ship  that  had  outwitted  her  destiny.  She  had  no 
masts  and  sails  to  push  her  through  these  acres  of 
leathery  kelp  and  bright  masses  of  weed  which  had 
drifted  from  the  Gulf  and  the  Caribbean  to  come  to 
rest  in  this  solitary,  watery  waste.  And  yet  to  the 
captain  and  his  two  seamen  this  dreaded  Sargasso 
Sea  was  beneficent.  The  stagnant  weed  swarmed 
with  fish  and  gaudy  crabs  and  mollusks.  Here  was 
food  to  be  had  for  the  mere  harvesting  of  it.  They 
hauled  masses  of  weed  over  the  broken  bulwarks 
and  picked  off  the  crabs  by  hundreds.  Fishing 
gear  was  an  easy  problem  for  these  handy  sailor- 
men.  They  had  found  nails  enough;  hand- forged 
and  malleable.  In  the  galley  they  heated  and  ham- 
mered them  to  make  fish-hooks,  and  the  lines  were 
of  small  stuff  "unrove"  from  a  length  of  halyard. 
And  so  they  caught  fish,  and  cooked  them  when  the 
oven  could  be  spared.  Otherwise  they  ate  them 
raw,  which  was  not  distasteful  after  they  had  be- 
come accustomed  to  it.  The  natives  of  the  Ha- 
waiian Islands  prefer  their  fish  that  way.  Be- 
sides this,  they  split  a  large  number  of  small  fish 
and  dried  them  in  the  hot  sun  upon  the  roof  of  their 
shelter.  The  sea-salt  which  collected  in  the  bottom 


20  LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

of  the  still  was  rubbed  into  the  fish.  It  was  a  bit- 
ter condiment,  but  it  helped  to  preserve  them 
against  spoiling. 

The  season  of  spring  advanced  until  the  derelict 
Polly  had  been  four  months  afloat  and  wandering, 
and  the  end  of  the  voyage  was  a  long  way  off. 
The  minds  and  bodies  of  the  castaways  had  ad- 
justed themselves  to  the  intolerable  situation.  The 
most  amazing  aspect  of  the  experience  is  that  these 
men  remained  sane.  They  must  have  maintained  a 
certain  order  and  routine  of  distilling  water,  of 
catching  fish,  of  keeping  track  of  the  indistinguish- 
able procession  of  the  days  and  weeks.  Captain 
Cazneau's  recollection  was  quite  clear  when  he  came 
to  write  down  his  account  of  what  had  happened. 
The  one  notable  omission  is  the  death  of  another 
sailor,  name  unknown,  which  must  have  occurred 
after  April.  The  only  seaman  who  survived  to 
keep  the  skipper  company  was  Samuel  Badger. 

By  way  of  making  the  best  of  it,  these  two  in- 
domitable seafarers  continued  to  work  on  their 
rough  deck-house,  "which  by  constant  improvement 
had  become  much  more  commodious."  A  few 
bundles  of  hewn  shingles  were  discovered  in  the 
hold,  and  a  keg  of  nails  was  found  lodged  in  a 
corner  of  the  forecastle.  The  shelter  was  finally 
made  tight  and  weather-proof,  but,  alas !  there  was 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       21 

no  need  of  having  it  "more  commodious."  It  is  ob- 
vious, also,  that  "when  reduced  to  two  only,  they  had 
a  better  supply  of  water."  How  long  they  re- 
mained in  the  Sargasso  Sea  it  is  impossible  to  as- 
certain. Late  in  April  it  is  recounted  that  "no 
friendly  breeze  wafted  to  their  side  the  seaweed 
from  which  they  could  obtain  crabs  or  insects." 
The  mysterious  impulse  of  the  currents  plucked  at 
the  keel  of  the  Polly  and  drew  her  clear  of  this  re- 
gion of  calms  and  of  ancient,  fantastic  sea-tales. 
She  moved  in  the  open  Atlantic  again,  without 
guidance  or  destination,  and  yet  she  seemed  inex- 
plicably to  be  following  an  appointed  course,  as 
though  fate  decree!!  that  she  should  find  rescue 
waiting  somewhere  beyond  the  horizon. 

The  brig  was  drifting  toward  an  ocean  more  fre- 
quented, where  the  Yankee  ships  bound  out  to  the 
River  Plate  sailed  in  a  long  slant  far  over  to  the 
African  coast  to  take  advantage  of  the  booming 
trade- winds.  She  was  also  wallowing  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  route  of  the  East  Indiamen,  which  de- 
parted from  English  ports  to  make  the  far-distant 
voyage  around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  None  of 
them  sighted  the  speck  of  a  derelict,  which  floated 
almost  level  with  the  sea  and  had  no  spars  to  make 
her  visible.  Captain  Cazneau  and  his  companion 
saw  sails  glimmer  against  the  sky-line  during  the 


22     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

last  thousand  miles  of  drift,  but  they  vanished  like 
bits  of  cloud,  and  none  passed  near  enough  to  bring 
salvation. 

June  found  the  Polly  approaching  the  Canary 
Islands.  The  distance  of  her  journey  had  been 
about  two  thousand  miles,  which  would  make  the 
average  rate  of  drift  something  more  than  three 
hundred  miles  a  month,  or  ten  miles  per  day.  The 
season  of  spring  and  its  apple  blossoms  had  come 
and  gone  in  New  England,  and  the  brig  had  long 
since  been  mourned  as  missing  with  all  hands.  It 
was  on  the  twentieth  of  June  that  the  skipper  and 
his  companion — two  hairy,  ragged  apparitions — saw 
three  ships  which  appeared  to  be  heading  in  their 
direction.  This  was  in  latitude  28°  North  and  lon- 
gitude 13°  West,  and  if  you  will  look  at  a  chart  you 
will  note  that  the  wreck  would  soon  have  stranded 
on  the.  coast  of  Africa.  The  three  ships,  in  com- 
pany, bore  straight  down  at  the  pitiful  little  brig, 
which  trailed  fathoms  of  sea-growth  along  her  hull. 
She  must  have  seemed  uncanny  to  those  who  beheld 
her  and  wondered  at  the  living  figures  that  moved 
upon  the  weather-scarred  deck.  She  might  have 
inspired  "The  Ancient  Mariner." 

Not  one  ship,  but  three,  came  bowling  down  to 
hail  the  derelict.  They  manned  the  braces  and 
swung  the  main-yards  aback,  beautiful,  tall  ships 


FATE  OF  THE  BRIG  POLLY       23 

and  smartly  handled,  and  presently  they  lay  hove 
to.  The  captain  of  the  nearest  one  shouted  a  hail 
through  his  brass  trumpet,  but  the  skipper  of  the 
Polly  had  no  voice  to  answer  back.  He  sat  weep- 
ing upon  the  coaming  of  a  hatch.  Although  not 
given  to  emotion,  he  would  have  told  you  that  it  had 
been  a  hard  voyage.  A  boat  was  dropped  from  the 
davits  of  this  nearest  ship,  which  flew  the  red  ensign 
from  her  spanker-gaff.  A  few  minutes  later  Cap- 
tain Cazneau  and  Samuel  Badger,  able  seaman, 
were  alongside  the  good  ship  Fame  of  Hull,  Captain 
Featherstone,  and  lusty  arms  pulled  them  up  the 
ladder.  It  was  six  months  to  a  day  since  the  Polly 
had  been  thrown  on  her  beam-ends  and  dismasted. 
The  three  ships  had  been  near  together  in  light 
winds  for  several  days,  it  seemed,  and  it  occurred  to 
their  captains  to  dine  together  on  board  the  Fame. 
And  so  the  three  skippers  were  there  to  give  the 
survivors  of  the  Polly  a  welcome  and  to  marvel  at 
the  yarn  they  spun.  The  Fame  was  homeward 
bound  from  Rio  Janeiro.  It  is  pleasant  to  learn 
that  Captain  Cazneau  and  Samuel  Badger  "were 
received  by  these  humane  Englishmen  with  expres- 
sions of  the  most  exalted  sensibility."  The  musty 
old  narrative  concludes : 

Thus  was  ended  the  most  shocking  catastrophe  which 
our  seafaring  history  has  recorded  for  many  years,  after 


24     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

a  series  of  distresses  from  December  20  to  the  20th  of 
June,  a  period  of  one  hundred  and  ninety-two  days. 
Every  attention  was  paid  to  the  sufferers  that  generosity 
warmed  with  pity  and  fellow-feeling  could  dictate,  on 
board  the  Fame.  They  were  transferred  from  this  ship 
to  the  brig  Dromio  and  arrived  in  the  United  States  in 
safety. 

Here  the  curtain  falls.  I  for  one  should  like  to 
hear  more  incidents  of  this  astonishing  cruise  of  the 
derelict  Polly  and  also  to  know  what  happened  to 
Captain  Cazneau  and  Samuel  Badger  after  they 
reached  the  port  of  Boston.  Probably  they  went 
to  sea  again,  and  more  than  likely  in  a  privateer  to 
harry  British  merchantmen,  for  the  recruiting  officer 
was  beating  them  up  to  the  rendezvous  with  fife  and 
drum,  and  in  August  of  1812  the  frigate  Constitu- 
tion, with  ruddy  Captain  Isaac  Hull  walking  the 
poop  in  a  gold-laced  coat,  was  pounding  the 
Guerriere  to  pieces  in  thirty  minutes,  with  broad- 
sides whose  thunder  echoed  round  the  world. 

"Ships  are  all  right.  It  is  the  men  in  them,"  said 
one  of  Joseph  Conrad's  wise  old  mariners.  This 
was  supremely  true  of  the  little  brig  that  endured 
and  suffered  so  much,  and  among  the  humble  heroes 
of  blue  water  by  no  means  the  least  worthy  to  be 
remembered  are  Captain  Cazneau  and  Samuel 
Badger,  able  seaman,  and  Moho,  the  Indian  cook. 


CHAPTER  II 

HOW  THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION  FELL  AMONG  THIEVES 

THIS  is  the  story  of  a  very  shabby  set  of  rascals 
who  wrecked  and  plundered  an  honest  little 
merchant  vessel  a  hundred  years  ago  and  disgraced 
the  profession  of  piracy.  In  truth,  even  in  the  hey- 
day of  the  black  flag  and  the  Spanish  Main,  most 
pirates  were  no  better  than  salt-water  burglars 
who  would  rather  run  than  fight.  The  glamour 
of  romance  has  been  kinder  to  them  than  they  de- 
served. Their  vocation  had  fallen  to  a  low  ebb 
indeed  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
when  they  still  infested  the  storied  waters  of  the 
Caribbean  and  struggled  along,  in  some  instances, 
on  earnings  no  larger  than  those  of  a  minister  or 
school-teacher  of  to-day.  Ambitious  young  men 
had  ceased  to  follow  piracy  as  a  career.  The  dis- 
tinguished leaders  had  long  since  vanished,  most 
of  them  properly  hanged  in  chains,  and  it  was  no 
longer  possible  to  become  a  William  Kidd,  a  Cap- 
tain Ned  England,  or  a  Charles  Vane. 

The  schooner  Exertion,  Captain  Barnabas  Lin- 
coln, sailed  from  Boston,  bound  to  Trinidad,  Cuba, 
on  November  13,  1821,  with  a  crew  consisting  of 

25 


26     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Joshua  Brackett,  mate;  David  Warren,  cook;  and 
Thomas  Young,  George  Reed,  and  Francis  De 
Suze  as  able  seamen.  There  was  nothing  in  the 
cargo  to  tempt  a  self-respecting  pirate ;  no  pieces  of 
eight  or  doubloons  or  jewels,  but  flour,  beef,  pork, 
lard,  butter,  fish,  onions,  potatoes,  apples,  hams, 
furniture,  and  shocks  with  a  total  invoiced  value  of 
eight  thousand  dollars.  In  this  doleful  modern  era 
of  the  high  cost  of  living,  such  a  cargo  would,  of 
course  persuade  almost  any  honest  householder  to 
turn  pirate  if  he  thought  there  was  a  fighting 
chance  of  stowing  all  these  valuables  in  his  cellar. 

The  Exertion  jogged  along  without  incident  for 
a  five  weeks'  passage,  which  brought  her  close  to 
Cape  Cruz  and  the  end  of  the  run,  when  a  strange 
sail  swept  out  of  a  channel  among  the  sandy  Cuban 
keys,  with  sweeps  out  and  a  deck  filled  with  men. 
There  were  forty  of  them,  unkempt,  bewhiskered, 
and  they  appeared  to  be  so  many  walking  arsenals 
of  muskets,  blunderbusses,  cutlasses,  pistols,  and 
dirks.  Their  schooner  mounted  two  carronades, 
and  flew  a  blue-and-white  flag  of  the  Republic  of 
Mexico,  which  was  a  device  popular  among  sea- 
rovers  who  were  no  better  than  they  should  be. 
It  permitted  liberty  of  action,  something  like  a  New 
Jersey  charter  which  corporations  have  found  elas- 
tic in  times  more  recent. 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       27 

Captain  Lincoln  hove  the  Exertion  to  and  hoped 
for  the  best,  having  only  five  men  and  seven  muskets 
with  which  to  repel  boarders.  The  United  States 
was  at  peace  with  Mexico  and  Spain,  and  he  tried 
to  believe,  as  he  tells  us,  that  "the  republican  flag 
indicated  both  honor  and  friendship  from  those  who 
wore  it."  Alas!  it  was  soon  discovered  that  these 
were  common  pirates,  for  they  sent  a  boat  aboard 
in  charge  of  the  first  lieutenant,  Bolidar,  with  six  or 
eight  Spaniards,  "armed  with  as  many  of  the  afore- 
mentioned weapons  as  they  could  well  sling  about 
their  bodies."  The  Exertion  was  ordered  to  follow 
the  other  schooner,  the  Mexican  by  name,  and  the 
two  vessels  came  to  anchor  off  Cay  Largo,  about 
thirty  leagues  from  Trinidad. 

There  one  of  the  pirates,  the  sailing-master,  who 
called  himself  Nikola,  remained  in  the  Exertion  to 
examine  the  captain's  papers.  This  forbidding 
person  was,  in  fact,  a  Scotchman,  as  his  speech  read- 
ily disclosed,  and  he  was  curiously  out  of  place 
among  the  dirty  crew  of  Spanish  renegades.  In 
him  the  unlucky  skipper  of  the  Exertion  had  found 
a  friend,  of  whom  he  said : 

This  Nikola  had  a  countenance  rather  pleasing,  al- 
though his  beard  and  mustachios  had  a  frightful  appear- 
ance,— his  face,  apparently  full  of  anxiety,  indicated 
something  in  my  favor.  He  gave  me  back  my  papers,  say- 


28     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ing,  "Take  good  care  of  them,  for  I  am  afraid  you  have 
fallen  into  bad  hands." 

The  pirates  then  sent  a  boat  to  the  Exertion  with 
more  men  and  arms,  leaving  a  heavy  guard  on  board 
and  taking  Captain  Lincoln  and  his  Yankee  seamen 
off  to  their  own  low,  rakish  craft,  where  they  served 
out  the  rum  and  vainly  tried  to  persuade  them  to 
enlist,  with  promise  of  dazzling  booty.  Captain 
Lincoln  was  not  at  all  attracted  by  this  business 
opportunity,  and  sadly  he  returned  to  his  schooner, 
where  he  found  Lieutenant  Bolidar  in  the  cabin  and 
the  place  in  a  sorry  mess.  It  is  well  known  that, 
whatever  their  other  virtues,  pirates  as  a  class  had 
no  manners.  With  a  few  exceptions  the  best  of 
them  lived  like  pigs  and  behaved  like  hooligans. 
The  captain's  narrative  declares : 

They  had  emptied  a  case  of  liquors,  and  broken  a  cheese 
to  pieces  and  crumbled  it  on  the  table  and  the  cabin  floor 
and,  elated  with  their  prize  as  they  called  it,  they  had 
drunk  so  much  as  to  make  them  desperately  abusive.  I 
was  permitted  to  lie  down  in  my  berth  but,  reader,  if  you 
have  ever  been  awakened  by  a  gang  of  armed  desperadoes 
who  have  taken  possession  of  your  habitation  in  the  mid- 
night hour,  you  can  imagine  my  feelings.  Sleep  was  a 
stranger  to  me  and  anxiety  was  my  guest.  Bolidar,  how- 
ever, pretended  friendship  and  flattered  me  with  the  pros- 
pect of  being  set  at  liberty,  but  I  found  him,  as  I  sus- 
pected, a  consummate  hypocrite.  Indeed,  his  very  looks 
indicated  it. 


THE  PIRATE  CAPTAIN  BOARDING  THE  CAPTURED       EXERTION 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       29 

He  was  a  stout  and  well-built  man,  of  a  dark  swarthy 
complexion,  with  keen,  ferocious  eyes,  huge  whiskers  and 
beard  under  his  chin  and  on  his  lips.  He  was  a  Por- 
tuguese by  birth  but  had  become  a  naturalized  French- 
man,— had  a  wife  and  children  in  France  and  was  well- 
known  there  as  commander  of  a  first-rate  privateer.  His 
appearance  was  truly  terrific.  He  could  talk  some  Eng- 
lish and  had  a  most  lion-like  voice. 

Next  day  the  scurvy  knaves  began  plundering  the 
Exertion  of  her  cargo  of  potatoes,  butter,  apples, 
beans,  and  so  on,  ripped  up  the  floors  in  search  of 
more  liquor,  found  some  hard  cider,  and  guzzled  it 
until  officers  and  men  were  in  a  fight,  all  tipsy 
together,  and  then  simmered  down  to  sing  senti- 
mental ditties  in  the  twilight.  Soon  after  this  both 
schooners  got  under  way  and  sailed  to  another 
haven  in  the  lee  of  Brigantine  Cay.  Captain  Lin- 
coln now  saw  something  more  of  the  roving  scape- 
grace of  a  Scotchman  who  called  himself  Nikola. 
He  was  a  pirate  with  a  sentimental  streak  in 
him  and  professed  himself  to  be  unhappy  in  his 
lawless  employment  and  declared  he  had  signed 
articles  in  the  belief  that  he  was  bound  priva- 
teering. 

A  theatrical  person  was  the  bewhiskered  Nikola, 
who  properly  belonged  to  fiction  of  the  romantic 
school.  Sympathetic  Captain  Lincoln  wrote  that 
he 


30     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

lamented  most  deeply  his  own  situation,  for  he  was  one  of 
those  men  whose  early  good  impressions  were  not  entirely 
effaced.  He  told  me  that  those  who  had  taken  me  were 
no  better  than  pirates  and  their  end  would  be  the  halter, 
but  he  added,  with  peculiar  emotion,  "I  will  never  be 
hung  as  a  pirate,"  showing  me  a  bottle  of  laudanum  which 
he  had  found  in  my  medicine  chest  and  saying,  "If  we  are 
overtaken,  this  shall  cheat  the  hangman  before  we  are 
condemned." 

Another  day's  cruise  to  the  eastward  and  the 
trim,  taut  little  Exertion  suffered  the  melancholy 
fate  of  shipwreck,  not  bravely  in  a  gale,  but  mis- 
handled and  wantonly  gutted  by  her  captors. 
First  she  stranded  on  a  bar  while  making  in  for  a 
secluded  creek,  and  was  floated  after  throwing  over- 
board the  deck-load  of  shooks  for  making  sugar- 
barrels.  Then  her  sails  were  stripped,  the  rigging 
cut  to  pieces,  and  the  masts  chopped  over  the  side 
lest  they  be  sighted  from  seaward.  After  that  the 
pirates  hewed  gaps  in  the  deck  and  bulwarks  in 
order  to  loot  the  rest  of  the  cargo  more  easily,  and 
the  staunch  schooner  was  left  to  bleach  her  bones  on 
the  Cuban  coast. 

The  amiable  Nikola  found  himself  in  trouble  be- 
cause of  his  friendly  feeling  for  Captain  Lincoln. 
The  Spanish  sailors  tied  him  to  a  tree  and  were 
about  to  shoot  him  as  a  soft-hearted  traitor  who  was 
guilty  of  unprofessional  conduct,  but  a  courageous 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       31 

French  pirate  surged  into  the  picture  with  several 
men  of  his  own  opinion,  and  remarked  that  when 
the  shooting  began  there  would  be  other  targets 
besides  Nikola.  This  convinced  the  mob  that  it 
might  be  healthier  to  let  the  Scotchman  alone. 

The  captain  and  crew  of  the  Exertion  were 
threatened  and  ill  used,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no 
intention  of  making  them  walk  the  plank  or  hewing 
them  down  with  cutlasses.  What  to  do  with  them 
was  a  problem  rather  perplexing,  which  was  proof 
that  the  trade  of  piracy  had  fallen  from  its  former 
estate.  These  were  thrifty  freebooters,  however, 
and  the  business  was  capably  organized.  There 
were  even  traces  of  the  efficiency  management  which 
was  to  become  the  religion  of  the  twentieth  century. 
The  pirates'  largest  boat  was  manned  by  a  crew 
which  discarded  some  of  its  weapons,  combed  its 
whiskers,  even  washed  its  faces,  and  set  off  for  the 
port  of  Principe  in  charge  of  the  terrifying  Bolidar. 

The  boat  carried  letters  to  a  merchant  by  the 
name  of  Dominico  who  acted  as  the  commercial 
agent  of  the  industrious  pirates  and  sold  their  plun- 
der for  them.  A  representative  of  his  was  kept  on 
board  the  wicked  schooner  and  went  to  sea  with 
her,  presumably  to  make  sure  of  honest  dealings,  a 
sensible  precaution  in  the  case  of  such  slippery 
gentry.  The  whole  arrangement  was  most  repre- 


32     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

hensible,  of  course,  but  it  had  flourished  on  a  much 
larger  scale  in  the  godly  ports  of  Boston  and  New 
York  during  an  earlier  era. 

It  was  to  put  a  stop  to  such  scandalous  traffic 
that  Richard  Coote,  Earl  of  Bellomont,  had  been 
sent  out  by  King  William  III  in  1695  as  royal 
governor  of  the  colonies  of  New  York  and  Massa- 
chusetts. Colonial  merchants,  outwardly  the  pat- 
tern of  respectability,  were  in  secret  partnership 
with  the  swarm  of  pirates  which  infested  the  Amer- 
ican coast  and  waxed  rich  on  the  English  commerce 
of  the  Indian  Ocean. 

"I  send  you,  my  Lord,  to  New  York,"  said  King 
William  to  Bellomont,  "because  an  honest  and  in- 
trepid man  is  wanted  to  put  these  abuses  down,  and 
because  I  believe  you  to  be  such  a  man." 

As  a  result  of  these  instructions,  Captain  William 
Kidd  was  employed  to  hunt  the  pirates  down  by  sea 
while  Governor  Bellomont  made  it  hot  for  the  un- 
scrupulous merchants  ashore  who  were,  no  doubt, 
the  ancestors  of  the  modern  American  profiteers  in 
food  and  clothing,  who  are  also  most  respectable 
men.  Captain  Kidd  was  a  merchant  shipmaster  of 
brave  and  honorable  repute  who  had  a  comfortable 
home  in  Liberty  Street,  New  York,  was  married  to 
a  widow  of  good  family,  and  was  highly  esteemed  by 
the  Dutch  and  English  people  of  the  town.  A 


o   a 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       33 

shrewd  trader  who  made  money  for  his  owners,  he 
was  also  a  fighting  seaman  of  such  proved  mettle 
that  he  had  been  given  command  of  privateers 
which  cruised  off  the  coasts  of  the  colonies  and  har- 
ried the  French  in  the  West  Indies.  His  excellent 
reputation  and  character  are  attested  by  official 
documents. 

How  Captain  Kidd,  sent  out  to  catch  pirates,  was 
convicted  of  turning  pirate  himself  rather  than  sail 
home  empty-handed  is  another  story.  Fate  has 
played  strange  tricks  with  the  memory  of  this  seven- 
teenth-century seafarer  who  never  cut  a  throat  or 
scuttled  a  ship,  and  who  was  hanged  at  Execution 
Dock  for  the  excessively  unromantic  crime  of 
cracking  the  skull  of  his  mutinous  gunner  with  a 
wooden  bucket. 

Poor  Captain  Barnabas  Lincoln  of  Boston,  hav- 
ing lost  his  schooner  and  cargo,  was  righteously  in- 
dignant at  discovering  how  the  infamous  business 
was  carried  on.  Said  he : 

I  was  informed  by  a  line  from  Nikola  that  the  pirates 
had  a  man  on  board,  a  native  of  Principe,  who  in  the  garb 
of  a  sailor  was  a  partner  with  Dominico,  but  I  could  not 
get  sight  of  him.  This  lets  us  a  little  into  the  plan  by 
which  this  atrocious  system  has  been  conducted.  Mer- 
chants having  partners  on  board  of  these  pirates !  Thus 
pirates  at  sea  and  robbers  on  land  are  associated  to  de- 
stroy the  peaceful  trader. 


34     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Nikola  remained  true  to  Captain  Lincoln,  even 
sending  him  a  letter  from  Principe  to  tell  him  about 
the  disposition  of  the  stolen  cargo  and  what  prices 
it  was  fetching.  In  this  letter  he  revealed  the  fact 
that  his  true  name  was  Jamieson  and  concluded  with 
this  romantic  flight: 

Perhaps  in  your  old  age,  when  you  recline  with  ease  in 
a  corner  of  your  cottage,  you  will  have  the  goodness  to 
drop  a  tear  of  pleasure  to  the  memory  of  him  whose 
highest  ambition  should  have  been  to  subscribe  himself, 
though  devoted  to  the  gallows,  your  friend, 

NIKOLA  MONACRE. 

Another  streak  of  sentiment  was  discovered  in 
one  of  the  Exertion's  sailors,  Francis  De  Suze,  a 
Portuguese,  who  finally  weakened  and  decided  to 
join  the  outlaws.  He  was  won  over  by  the  artful 
persuasions  of  his  fellow-countryman,  Lieutenant 
Bolidar  of  the  ferocious  mien  and  lion-like  voice. 
To  Captain  Lincoln  he  explained,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes: 

"I  shall  do  nothing  but  what  I  am  compelled  to  do  and 
will  not  aid  in  the  least  to  hurt  you  or  your  vessel.  I  am 
very  sorry  to  leave  you." 

The  pious  master  of  the  Exertion  bore  up  under 
his  troubles  with  a  spirit  truly  admirable,  but  it  was 
one  thing  after  another,  and  under  date  of  Sunday, 
December  80,  he  wrote  in  his  diary: 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       35 

This  day,  which  particularly  reminds  Christians  of  the 
high  duties  of  compassion  and  benevolence,  is  never  ob- 
served by  these  pirates.  This,  of  course,  we  might  ex- 
pect, as  they  do  not  often  know  when  Sunday  comes  and  if 
they  do,  it  is  spent  in  gambling.  Early  this  morning,  the 
merchant,  as  they  call  him,  came  with  a  large  boat  for 
more  cargo.  I  was  ordered  into  a  boat  with  my  crew, 
without  any  breakfast,  and  carried  about  three  miles  to  a 
small  island  out  of  sight  of  the  Exertion  and  left  there  by 
the  side  of  a  pond  of  thick,  muddy  water  with  nothing  to 
eat  but  a  few  biscuits.  One  of  the  boat's  crew  told  us  that 
the  merchant  was  afraid  of  being  recognized,  and  when 
he  had  gone  the  boat  would  return  for  us,  but  we  passed 
the  day  in  the  greatest  anxiety.  At  night,  however,  the 
boat  came  and  took  us  again  on  board  the  Exertion  where 
to  our  surprise  and  grief  we  found  they  had  broken  open 
the  trunks  and  chests  and  taken  all  our  wearing  apparel, 
not  leaving  me  even  a  shirt  or  a  pair  of  pantaloons,  nor 
sparing  a  small  miniature  of  my  wife  which  was  in  the 
trunk. 

The  pirate  schooner  was  employed  a  few  days 
later  to  fill  her  hold  with  cargo  from  the  Exertion 
and  hoist  sail  for  Principe.  They  lifted  the  stuff 
out  with  a  "Yo,  ho,  ho!"  which  made  Captain  Lin- 
coln so  unhappy  that  he  pensively  wrote: 

How  different  was  this  sound  from  what  it  would  have 
been  had  I  been  permitted  to  pass  unmolested  by  these  law- 
less plunderers  and  been  favored  with  a  safe  arrival  at 
the  port  of  my  destination  where  my  cargo  would  have 
found  an  excellent  sale.  Then  would  the  "yo,  ho,  ho!"  on 
its  discharging  have  been  a  delightful  sound  to  me. 


36     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

As  a  final  touch  to  affect  the  modern  reader  with 
a  sense  of  comedy  and  the  captain  with  additional 
woe,  the  pirates  fished  out  the  Exertion's  consign- 
ments of  furniture  and,  for  lack  of  space  below, 
sailed  off  with  chairs  lashed  to  the  rail  in  rows  and 
tables  hung  in  the  rigging.  There  now  appears  the 
figure  of  the  pirate  commander  himself,  for  Bolidar 
was  merely  the  lieutenant,  or  executive  officer.  To 
Captain  Lincoln,  gloomily  watching  the  pirate 
schooner  in  the  offing,  with  her  picturesque  garni- 
ture of  hand-made  New  England  furniture,  came 
Bolidar  with  five  men,  his  own  personal  armament 
consisting  of  a  blunderbuss,  cutlass,  a  long  knife, 
and  a  pair  of  pistols.  This  fearsome  lieutenant 
took  Captain  Lincoln  by  the  arm,  led  him  aside,  and 
imparted : 

"My  capitan  sends  me  for  your  wash." 

Properly  resentful,  the  master  of  the  Exertion 
replied : 

"Damn  your  eyes!  I  have  no  clothes,  nor  any  soap 
to  wash  with.  You  have  stolen  them  all." 

"Ah,  ha,  but  I  will  have  your  wash,  pronto!" 
cried  Bolidar,  waving  the  blunderbuss.  "What 
you  call  him  that  makes  tick-took,  same  as  the 
clock?" 

Disgustedly  Captain  Lincoln  extracted  his  watch 
from  the  place  where  he  had  hidden  it.  The  cloud 


THE  SCHOOXER  EXERTION       37 

had  a  silver  lining,  for  Bolidar  graciously  handed 
over  a  small  bundle  at  parting. 

It  contained  a  pair  of  linen  drawers  sent  me  by  Nikola, 
also  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brooks'  Family  Prayer  Book.  This 
gave  me  great  satisfaction.  Soon  after,  Bolidar  returned 
with  his  captain  who  had  one  arm  slung  up,  yet  with  as 
many  implements  of  war  as  his  diminutive  self  could  con- 
veniently carry.  He  told  me  (through  an  interpreter  who 
was  his  prisoner)  that  on  his  last  cruise  he  had  fallen  in 
with  two  Spanish  privateers  and  beat  them  off,  but  had 
fourteen  of  his  men  killed  and  was  himself  wounded  in  the 
arm.  Bolidar  turned  to  me  and  said,  "It  is  a  d — n  lie," 
which  words  proved  to  be  correct  for  his  arm  was  not 
wounded  and  when  I  saw  him  again  he  had  forgotten  to 
sling  it  up. 

An  accurate  and  convincing  portrait,  this,  and 
painted  with  very  few  strokes — the  strutting  little 
braggart  of  a  pirate  chief  who  resorted  to  such 
cheap  and  stagy  tricks  as  bandaging  his  arm  to 
make  an  impression!  Having  disposed  of  the 
cargo,  it  now  transpired  that  the  prisoners  were  to 
be  marooned  and  left  to  perish.  After  all,  the  tra- 
ditions of  piracy  had  not  been  wholly  lost  and  these 
sordid  rascals  were  running  true  to  form.  With  an 
inkling  of  this  fate,  Mr.  Joshua  Brackett,  the  mate 
of  the  Exertion,  was  heard  to  say : 

"I  carmot  tell  what  awaits  us,  but  it  appears  to 
me  that  the  worst  is  to  come." 


38    LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

This  is  how  Captain  Lincoln  quoted  it  in  his 
diary,  but  the  mate  of  the  schooner,  sorely  tried  as 
he  must  have  been,  was  more  likely  to  exclaim : 

"I  can't  fathom  all  their tricks,  but  it 

looks  to  me  as  if  the  bloody  rogues  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  scupper  us,  and  may  they  sizzle  in 
hell  for  a  million  years !" 

The  pirate  chief  and  his  officers  held  a  whispered 
conference  and  then  spent  the  last  night  ashore  in 
gambling,  the  diminutive  leader  "in  hopes  of  getting 
back  some  of  the  five  hundred  dollars  he  had  lost  a 
few  nights  before;  which  made  him  unusuallly 
fractious." 

Before  they  were  marooned,  Captain  Lincoln 
took  pains  to  note  down  that  the  pirates  were  sport- 
ing new  canvas  trousers  made  from  the  light  sails  of 
the  Exertion  and  that  they  had  cut  up  the  colors 
to  make  fancy  belts  to  keep  their  money  in,  and  he 
added  this  vivid  little  touch  to  the  portrait  of  the 
chief,  "The  captain  had  on  one  of  my  best  shirts,  a 
cleaner  one  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  wear  before." 

At  sunset  the  crew  of  the  Exertion,  with  several 
prisoners  taken  out  of  a  Spanish  merchant  prize, 
were  put  into  a  boat.  At  this  lamentable  moment, 
Nikola  stepped  to  the  front  again  and  said  to  Cap- 
tain Lincoln : 

"My  friend,  I  will  give  you  your  book,"  (a  vol- 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       39 

ume  of  Rev.  Mr.  Coleman's  sermons) .  "It  is  the 
only  thing  of  yours  that  is  in  my  possession.  I 
dare  not  attempt  anything  more.  Never  mind,  I 
may  see  you  again  before  I  die." 

There  were  eleven  prisoners  in  all,  without  arms, 
and  to  sustain  life  only  a  ten-gallon  keg  of  water, 
part  of  a  barrel  of  flour,  one  ham,  and  a  little  salt 
fish,  not  forgetting  the  precious  volume  of  Mr. 
Coleman's  sermons.  They  were  carried  to  a  tiny 
key,  or  islet,  no  more  than  a  shoal  of  white  sand  an 
acre  in  extent  and  barely  lifted  above  high  tide, 
forty  miles  off  the  Cuban  coast  and  well  out  of  the 
track  of  vessels.  No  wonder  that  Captain  Lincoln 
was  moved  to  ejaculate: 

"Look  at  us  now,  my  friends,  left  benighted  on  a  little 
spot  of  sand  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean,  with  every  appear- 
ance of  a  violent  thunder  tempest  and  a  boisterous  night. 
Judge  of  my  feelings  and  the  circumstances  which  our 
band  of  sufferers  now  witnessed.  Perhaps  you  can,  and 
have  pitied  us.  I  assure  you  we  were  very  wretched, 
and  to  depict  the  scene  is  beyond  my  power.'* 

They  found  a  fragment  of  a  thatched  hut  built 
by  turtle  fishermen,  but  now  whipped  bare  by  the 
winds,  and  it  served  as  a  slight  shelter  from  the 
burning  sun.  Fire  they  kindled  by  means  of  a 
piece  of  cotton- wick  yarn  and  a  flint  and  steel. 
They  dug  holes  for  fresh  water,  but  it  was  too  salt 


40     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

to  drink.  At  bedtime  the  captain  read  aloud  selec- 
tions from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brooks's  Family  Prayer- 
Book,  and  they  slept  in  the  sand  when  the  scorpions, 
centipedes,  lizards,  and  mosquitoes  permitted. 

Of  driftwood,  palmetto  logs,  and  bits  of  board 
they  fashioned  a  little  raft  and  so  explored  the  key 
nearest  them.  There  they  discovered  some  shooks, 
planks,  and  pieces  of  spar  which  had  been  in  the 
Exertion's  deck-load  and  were  thrown  overboard 
when  she  grounded  on  the  bar.  With  the  amazing 
handiness  of  good  seamen  they  proceeded  to  build  a 
boat  of  this  pitiful  material.  "Some  of  the  Span- 
iards had  secreted  their  long  knives  in  their  trouser- 
legs,  which  proved  very  useful  in  fitting  timbers, 
and  a  gimblet  of  mine  enabled  us  to  use  wooden 
pins,"  explains  Captain  Lincoln.  "And  now  our 
spirits  began  to  revive,  although  water  >  water  was 
continually  in  our  minds.  Our  labor  was  extremely 
burdensome,  and  the  Spaniards  considerably  peev- 
ish, but  they  would  often  say  to  me,  '  Never  mind, 
Captain,  bye-and-bye  Americans  or  Spanish  catch 
'em  and  we  go  see  'em  hung.' ' 

David  Warren,  the  cook  of  the  Exertion,  had 
been  ailing,  and  the  cruel  ordeal  of  being  marooned 
was  too  much  for  him.  The  captain  perceived  that 
he  was  soon  to  leave  them  and  suggested,  as  they 
sat  by  the  fire : 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       41 

"I  think  it  most  likely  that  we  shall  die  here  soon, 
David,  but  as  some  one  of  us  may  survive  to  carry 
the  tidings  to  our  friends,  if  you  have  anything  to 
say  respecting  your  family,  now  is  the  time." 

The  young  sailor — he  was  only  twenty-six — re- 
plied to  this:  "I  have  a  mother  in  Saco  where  I 
belong — she  is  a  second  time  a  widow.  To-morrow, 
if  you  can  spare  a  scrap  of  paper  and  a  pencil,  I 
will  write  something." 

No  to-morrow  came  to  him.  He  passed  out  in 
the  night,  and  the  skipper  thought  of  his  own  wife 
and  children  in  Boston.  They  dug  a  grave  in  the 
sand,  made  a  coffin  of  shocks,  and  stood  with  bare 
heads  while  Captain  Lincoln  read  the  funeral 
prayer  from  the  consolatory  compilation  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Brooks.  One  of  the  Spanish  prisoners,  an  old 
man  named  Manuel,  made  a  wooden  cross,  and  with 
great  pains  carved  upon  it  the  words,  "Jesus  Christ 
Hath  Him  Now,"  and  placed  it  at  the  head  of  the 
grave.  There  was  the  old  Puritan  strain  in  Cap- 
tain Lincoln,  who  commented,  "Although  I  did  not 
believe  in  the  mysterious  influence  of  the  cross,  yet 
I  was  perfectly  willing  it  should  stand  there." 

Enfeebled  and  lacking  food  and  water,  they  stub- 
bornly toiled  at  building  the  boat,  which  was  shaped 
like  a  flat-iron.  When  at  length  they  launched  the 
wretched  little  box,  it  leaked  like  a  basket,  and,  to 


42     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

their  dismay,  would  hold  no  more  than  six  of  them 
and  stay  afloat,  four  to  row,  one  to  steer,  and  one  to 
bail.  Three  Spaniards  and  a  Frenchman  argued 
that  they  should  go  in  search  of  help  because  they 
were  acquainted  with  the  lay  of  the  coast  and  could 
talk  to  the  people.  This  was  agreed  to,  and  Mr. 
Brackett,  the  mate,  was  also  selected  to  go,  because 
the  captain  considered  it  his  duty  to  stay  with  his 
men.  The  sixth  man  was  Joseph  Baxter,  and  there 
is  no  other  mention  of  him  in  the  narrative,  so  he 
must  have  been  one  of  the  prisoners  who  had  been 
brought  along  from  another  prize.  They  were 
given  a  keg  of  water,  "the  least  salty,"  a  few  pan- 
cakes and  salt  fish,  and  embarked  with  the  best 
wishes  and  prayers  of  the  other  survivors. 

On  the  torrid  key  waited  the  captain,  old  Manuel, 
Thomas  Young,  and  George  Reed,  while  the  pain- 
ful days  and  the  anxious  nights  dragged  past  until 
almost  a  week  had  gone.  The  flour-barrel  was 
empty,  and  they  were  trying  to  exist  on  prickly 
pears  and  shell-fish,  while  the  torments  of  thirst  were 
agonizing.  At  last  they  sighted  a  boat  drifting  by 
about  a  mile  distant,  and  hope  flickered  anew.  The 
raft  was  shoved  off,  and  two  of  them  overhauled  the 
empty  boat,  which  seemed  to  offer  a  way  of  escape. 
Imagine  their  feelings  at  discovering  that  it  was  the 
same  boat  in  which  Mr.  Brackett  and  the  five  men 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       43 

had  rowed  away  to  find  rescue  in  the  last  extremity ! 
It  was  full  of  water,  without  oars  or  paddles.  No 
wonder  that  Captain  Lincoln  wrote  in  his  journal 
next  day: 

"This  morning  was  indeed  the  most  gloomy  I  had  ever 
experienced.  There  appeared  hardly  a  ray  of  hope  that 
my  friend  Brackett  could  return,  seeing  the  boat  was  lost. 
Our  provisions  gone,  our  mouths  parched  extremely  with 
thirst,  our  strength  wasted,  our  spirits  broken,  and  our 
hopes  imprisoned  within  the  circumference  of  this  desolate 
island  in  the  midst  of  an  unfrequented  ocean, — all  these 
things  gave  to  the  scene  the  hue  of  death." 

Later  in  this  same  day  a  sail  was  seen  against  the 
blue  horizon.  The  sloop  boldly  tacked  among  the 
tortuous  shoals  and  was  evidently  heading  for  the 
islet.  Soon  she  fired  a  gun,  and  the  castaways  took 
her  to  be  another  pirate  vessel.  She  dropped 
anchor  and  lowered  a  boat  in  which  three  men  pulled 
to  the  beach.  "Thinking  it  no  worse  to  die  by 
sword  than  famine,"  Captain  Lincoln  walked  down 
to  meet  them.  As  the  boat  drove  through  the  surf, 
the  man  in  the  bow  jumped  out,  waded  ashore,  and 
rushed  to  embrace  the  captain. 

It  was  none  other  than  the  Scotchman,  Nikola 
Monacre,  henceforth  to  be  known  by  the  reputable 
and  rightful  name  of  Jamieson !  He  had  shorn  off 
his  ruffianly  whiskers  and  abandoned  his  evil  ways. 


44     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  moment  could  have  been  no  more  dramatic,  the 
coincidence  any  happier,  if  it  had  been  contrived 
by  a  motion-picture  director.  To  the  modern 
reader  it  will  come  as  an  agreeable  surprise,  I  fancy, 
for  until  now  the  character  of  Nikola,  as  conveyed 
in  glimpses  by  Captain  Lincoln,  fails  to  win  one's 
implicit  confidence.  While  among  the  pirates  he 
seemed  a  bit  mushy  and  impressionable,  not  quite 
the  man  to  stand  by  through  thick  and  thin  and  hew 
a  way  out  of  his  difficulties ;  but  this  was  an  unfair 
judgment.  He  was  leal  and  true  to  the  last  hair  of 
his  discarded  mustachios.  As  though  he  surmised 
that  Captain  Lincoln  might  have  formed  the  same 
opinion  of  him,  the  first  words  of  this  worthy  hero 
were: 

"Do  you  now  believe  that  Jamieson  is  your 
friend?  And  are  these  all  that  are  left  of  you? 
Ah,  I  suspected,  and  now  I  know  what  you  were 
put  here  for!" 

Captain  Lincoln  explained  the  absence  of  the 
mate  and  the  five  sailors  who  had  vanished  from  the 
waterlogged  boat.  Jamieson  had  heard  nothing  of 
them  and  ventured  the  conjecture: 

"How  unfortunate!  They  must  be  lost,  or  some 
pirates  have  taken  them." 

He  called  to  the  two  comrades  who  had  come 
ashore  with  him,  Frenchmen  and  fine  fellows,  who 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       45 

also  embraced  the  castaways  and  held  to  their 
parched  lips  a  tea-kettle  filled  with  wine,  and  then 
fed  them  sparingly  with  a  dish  of  salt  beef  and  pota- 
toes. The  others  of  the  sloop's  crew  were  sum- 
moned ashore,  and  while  they  all  sat  on  the  beach 
and  ate  and  drank,  the  admirable  Jamieson  spun 
the  yarn  of  his  own  adventures.  The  pirates  had 
captured  four  small  coasting-vessels  and,  being 
short  of  prize-masters,  had  put  him  in  charge  of 
one  of  them,  with  a  crew  which  included  the  two 
Frenchmen.  The  orders  were  to  follow  the  pirat- 
ical Mexican  into  a  harbor. 

His  captured  schooner  leaked  so  much  that 
Jamieson  abandoned  her  and  shifted  to  a  sloop,  in 
which  he  altered  his  course  at  night  and  so  slipped 
clear  of  the  pirates.  First  he  sailed  back  to  the 
wreck  of  the  Exertion  on  the  chance  that  Captain 
Lincoln  might  be  there.  Disappointed  in  this,  he 
went  to  sea  again  and  laid  a  course  for  the  key  on 
which  the  prisoners  had  been  marooned. 

"We  had  determined  among  ourselves,"  he  ex- 
plained, "that,  should  an  opportunity  occur,  we 
would  come  and  save  your  lives,  as  we  now  have." 

All  hands  went  aboard  Jamieson's  sloop,  and  left 
the  horrid  place  of  their  banishment  over  the  stern. 
The  first  port  of  call  was  the  inlet  in  which  the 
Exertion  lay  stranded.  She  was  a  forlorn  derelict, 


46    LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

stripped  of  everything,  and  Captain  Lincoln  bade 
his  luckless  schooner  a  sorrowful  farewell.  While 
beating  out  of  this  passage,  an  armed  brig  was 
sighted  five  miles  distant.  She  piped  a  boat  away, 
which  fired  several  musket-balls  through  the  sloop's 
mainsail  as  soon  as  they  drew  near  each  other,  and  it 
was  suspected  that  these  might  be  the  same  old 
pirates  of  the  Mexican.  Declining  to  surrender, 
Jamieson  and  Captain  Lincoln  served  out  muskets, 
and  they  peppered  the  strange  boat  in  a  brisk  little 
encounter  until  the  brig  sent  two  more  boats  away, 
and  resistance  was  seen  to  be  futile. 

The  armed  vessel  turned  out  to  be  a  lawful  Span- 
ish privateer,  whose  captain  showed  no  resentment 
at  the  fusillade.  Indeed,  he  was  handsomely  cor- 
dial, a  very  gentlemanly  sailor,  and  invited  Captain 
Lincoln  and  his  men  into  the  cabin  for  dinner, 
where  he  informed  them  that  he  had  commanded  a 
Yankee  privateer  out  of  Boston  during  the  War  of 
1812.  Jamieson  and  his  crew,  for  reasons  best 
known  to  themselves,  signed  articles  as  privateers- 
men  and  stayed  in  the  brig.  This  was  preferable 
to  risking  the  halter  ashore. 

Captain  Lincoln  was  landed  at  Trinidad,  Cuba, 
where  he  found  American  friends  and  was  soon  able 
to  secure  a  passage  to  Boston.  It  was  not  until 
months  later  that  he  learned  of  the  safe  arrival  on 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       47 

the  Cuban  coast  of  Mr.  Brackett,  the  mate,  and  the 
five  men  who  had  vanished  in  the  open  boat.  What 
befell  them  at  sea,  and  how  they  were  picked  up,  is 
not  revealed. 

It  would  be  a  pity  to  dismiss  the  engaging  Jamie- 
son  without  some  further  knowledge  of  his  check- 
ered career.  A  year  and  a  half  after  their  parting, 
Captain  Lincoln  received  a  letter  from  him.  He 
was  living  quietly  in  Montego  Bay,  Jamaica,  and 
at  the  captain's  very  urgent  invitation  he  came  to 
Boston  for  a  visit.  While  in  the  privateer  brig,  as 
he  told  it,  they  had  fought  a  Colombian  eighteen- 
gun  sloop-of-war  for  three  hours.  After  a  ham- 
mer-and-tongs  engagement,  both  ships  drew  off, 
very  much  battered.  The  Spanish  privateer 
limped  into  Santiago  for  repairs,  and  Jamieson  was 
sent  to  a  hospital  with  a  bullet  through  his  arm. 
From  there  he  had  made  his  way  to  Jamaica, 
where  friends  cared  for  him  and  kept  him  clear  of 
the  law. 

He  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  several  of  his  old 
shipmates  of  the  Mexican  brought  into  Montego 
Bay,  whence  they  were  carried  to  Kingston  and 
ceremoniously  hanged  by  the  neck.  Among  them 
was  Baltizar,  pilot  of  the  pirate  schooner,  and  in 
the  words  of  Captain  Lincoln : 

"He  was  an  old  man,  and  as  Jamieson  said,  it  was  a 


48     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

melancholy  and  heart-rending  sight  to  see  him  borne  to  ex- 
ecution with  those  gray  hairs  which  might  have  been  ven- 
erable in  virtuous  old  age,  now  a  reproach  and  shame  to 
this  hoary  villain,  for  he  was  full  of  years  and  old  in 
iniquity." 

You  may  be  sure  that  the  picaresque  Scotch  rover, 
who  had  been  so  faithful  and  kind,  found  a  warm 
welcome  at  the  fireside  of  Captain  Lincoln  and  in 
the  taverns  of  the  Boston  waterside.  He  was  con- 
tented to  lead  the  humdrum  life  of  virtue  and  sailed 
with  the  skipper  as  mate  in  a  new  schooner  on  sev- 
eral voyages  to  the  West  Indies.  In  his  later  years 
he  tired  of  the  offshore  trade  and  joined  the  fishing- 
fleet  out  of  Hingham  during  the  summer  months, 
while  in  the  winter  he  taught  navigation  to  the 
young  sailors  of  the  neighborhood  who  aspired  to 
rise  to  a  mate's  or  master's  berth. 

His  grave  is  on  the  shore  of  Cape  Cod,  and  as 
Captain  Lincoln  wrote  of  him,  "Peace  to  his  ashes. 
They  rest  in  a  strange  land,  far  from  his  kindred 
and  his  native  country." 

According  to  his  own  account,  Jamieson  was  of  a 
very  respectable  family  in  Greenock.  His  father 
was  a  cloth  merchant  of  considerable  wealth,  but 
being  left  an  orphan,  he  had  run  away  to  sea  and  en- 
gaged in  an  astonishing  variety  of  adventures.  Of 
him  Captain  Lincoln  said : 


THE  SCHOONER  EXERTION       49 

He  had  received  a  polite  education  and  was  of  a  very 
gentlemanly  deportment.  He  spoke  several  languages 
and  was  skilled  in  drawing  and  painting.  He  had  trav- 
elled extensively  and  his  wide  fund  of  information  made 
him  a  most  entertaining  companion.  His  observations 
on  the  character  of  different  nations  were  very  liberal; 
with  a  playful  humorousness  quite  free  from  bigotry  and 
narrow  prejudice. 

An  entertaining  companion  and  philosopher,  in- 
deed, whose  outlook  liad  been  mellowed  by  the 
broadening  influence  of  piracy,  and  you  and  I  would 
like  nothing  better  than  to  have  sat  down  with  this 
reformed  gentleman  of  fortune  a  hundred  years  ago 
and  listened  to  his  playful  comments  on  the  virtues 
and  the  vices  of  mankind,  and  his  wondrous  yarns 
of  men  and  ships  and  the  winds  that  tramp  the 
world. 

Perhaps  as  he  moved  so  sedately  in  the  ordered 
life  of  Boston  and  Hingham,  or  fared  to  the  south- 
ward again  as  mate  of  a  trading-schooner,  he  shiv- 
ered at  recollection  of  that  day  in  Kingston  when 
ten  of  his  old  shipmates  of  the  Meocican  dangled 
from  the  gallows-tree  and  the  populace  crowded  to 
enjoy  the  diverting  spectacle.  And  in  his  dreams 
he  may  have  heard  the  wailing  voice  of  Pedro 
Nondre,  when  the  rope  broke  and  he  fell  to  the 
ground  alive:  "Mercy!  mercy!  they  kill  me  with- 


50    LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

out  cause!  Oh,  good  Christians,  protect  me.  Is 
there  no  Christian  in  this  land?  Muero  innocente! 
Adios,  para  siempre  adios!" 

A  true  tale  this,  every  word  of  it,  as  are  all  the 
others  in  this  book,  but  lacking  one  essential  thing 
to  make  it  complete.  There  is  no  mention  in  the 
diary  of  Captain  Lincoln  to  bring  us  the  comforting 
assurance  that  Bolidar,  the  swaggering  lieutenant, 
and  his  diminutive  blackguard  of  a  chief  received 
the  solicitous  attention  of  the  hangman,  as  they 
handsomely  deserved. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA 

AMONG  the  countless  episodes  of  disaster  at 
sea,  the  fate  of  the  French  frigate  Medusa 
and  her  people  still  possesses  a  poignant  and  mourn- 
ful distinction.  Other  ships  have  gone  down  with 
much  greater  loss  of  life,  including  such  modern 
instances  as  the  Titanic  and  the  Lusitania,  or  have 
been  missing  with  all  hands,  but  the  story  of  the 
Medusa  casts  a  dark  shadow  across  the  chronicles  of 
human  suffering,  even  though  a  century  has  passed 
since  the  event.  There  are  some  enterprises  which 
seem  foredoomed  to  failure  by  a  conspiracy  of  cir- 
cumstances, as  if  a  spell  of  evil  enchantment  had 
been  woven  to  thwart  and  destroy  them.  Of  such  a 
kind  was  this  most  unhappy  voyage. 

As  an  incident  of  the  final  overthrow  of  Napo- 
leon, Great  Britain  returned  to  France  the  colonial 
territory  of  Senegal  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa, 
between  Cape  Blanco  and  the  Gambia  River.  A 
French  expedition  was  equipped  and  sent  out  to  re- 
occupy  and  govern  the  little  settlements  and  clear- 

51 


52     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ings  which  thinly  fringed  the  tropical  wilderness. 
It  included  officials,  scientists,  soldiers,  servants, 
and  laborers,  who  sailed  from  Rochefort  in  the 
Medusa  frigate  and  three  smaller  vessels  on  the 
seventeenth  of  June,  1816. 

The  French  Navy  had  been  shattered  and  swept 
from  the  seas  by  the  broadsides  of  Nelson's  fleets, 
and  its  morale  had  ebbed.  This  mission,  moreover, 
was  not  a  strictly  naval  affair,  and  the  personnel  of 
the  frigate  was  recruited  with  no  particular  care. 
The  seamen  were  the  scrapings  of  the  waterfront, 
and  the  officers  had  not  been  selected  for  efficiency. 
They  were  typical  neither  of  the  French  arms  nor 
people.  It  seemed  a  commonplace  task,  no  doubt, 
to  sail  with  the  summer  breezes  on  a  voyage  not 
much  farther  than  the  Cape  Verd  Islands  and  dis- 
embark the  passengers  and  cargo. 

Captain  de  Chaumareys  of  the  Medusa  was  a 
light-hearted,  agreeable  shipmate,  but  he  appears  to 
have  been  a  most  indifferent  seaman  and  a  worse 
master  of  men  and  emergencies.  When  no  more 
than  ten  days  out  from  port  he  discovered  that  his 
reckoning  had  set  him  thirty  leagues,  or  almost  a 
hundred  miles,  out  of  his  course.  This  was  not 
enough  to  condemn  him  utterly,  because  navigation 
was  a  crude  art  a  century  ago  and  ships  blundered 
about  the  high  seas  and  found  their  way  to  port  in 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  53 

the  most  astonishing  manner.  But  Captain  de 
Chaumareys  was  not  made  cautious  by  his  error, 
and  he  drove  along  with  fatuous  confidence  in  his 
ability  and  would  pay  no  heed  to  the  opinions  of 
his  officers.  He  also  managed  to  lose  touch  with 
the  three  smaller  ships  of  the  squadron,  and  they 
vanished  from  his  ken.  It  was  one  fatal  mischance 
after  another. 

On  the  first  of  July,  when  the  frigate  crossed  the 
tropic  of  Cancer,  the  debonair  captain  made  it  an 
excuse  for  a  holiday  and  took  personal  charge  of  the 
gaieties  which  so  absorbed  him  that  he  turned  over 
the  command  of  the  ship  to  M.  Richefort,  on,e  of  the 
civilian  officials  who  had  seen  naval  service.  There 
was  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  on  board,  for  all  the 
fiddling  and  singing  and  dancing,  and  the  officers 
discussed  it  over  their  wine  in  the  ward-room  and 
the  passengers  were  aware  of  it  in  the  cabins, 
"while  the  crew  performed  the  fantastic  ceremonies 
usual  on  such  occasions  although  the  frigate  was 
surrounded  by  all  the  unseen  perils  of  the  ocean.  A 
few  persons,  aware  of  the  danger,  remonstrated,  but 
without  effect,  even  when  it  was  ascertained  that  the 
Medusa  was  on  the  bank  of  Arguin." 

The  ship  was,  in  fact,  entrapped  among  the 
shoals  and  reefs  which  extended  like  a  labyrinth  far 
out  from  the  African  coast.  It  was  an  area  of 


54     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

many  disasters  to  stout  ships,  whose  crews  had  been 
taken  captive  or  killed  by  savage  tribes,  if  they  sur- 
vived the  hostility  of  the  sea.  M.  Richefort,  who 
was  so  obligingly  acting  as  commander  of  the 
Medusa,  insisted  that  there  were  a  hundred  fathoms 
of  water  under  the  keel  and  not  the  slightest  cause 
for  anxiety,  and  they  still  danced  on  deck  to  the 
scraping  of  the  fiddles. 

With  a  crash  that  flung  the  merry-makers  this 
way  and  that,  and  brought  the  spars  tumbling  about 
their  ears,  the  Medusa  struck  in  only  sixteen  feet  of 
water,  and  the  deadly  sands  had  inextricably 
gripped  her.  She  was  a  lost  ship  on  this  bright  day 
of  calm  seas  and  sunny  weather  and  the  sailors 
blithely  tripping  it  heel-and-toe.  It  was  soon  real- 
ized that  the  frigate  might  pound  to  pieces  in  the 
first  gale  of  wind,  and  that  advantage  had  best  be 
taken  of  the  quiescent  ocean  to  get  away  from  her. 
The  coast  was  known  to  be  no  more  than  forty  miles 
distant,  and  the  hope  of  escape  was  strong. 

There  was  ample  time  in  which  to  abandon  ship 
with  some  order  and  method,  to  break  out  provi- 
sions and  water-barrels,  to  build  a  number  of  buoy- 
ant rafts  and  carefully  equip  them,  to  safeguard 
the  lives  of  the  people  as  far  as  possible.  The  frig- 
ate carried  carpenters,  mechanics,  and  other  ar- 
tisans, and  all  manner  of  tools  for  the  colony  of 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  55 

Senegal.  Hundreds  of  people  had  been  saved  from 
other  ships  in  situations  even  more  desperate  than 
this.  There  had  been  strong  men,  unwavering 
authority,  and  disciplined  obedience  in  them,  how- 
ever, but  this  doomed  frigate  was  like  a  madhouse, 
and  panic  ran  from  deck  to  deck.  The  crew  was 
slack  at  best,  but  it  could  not  be  held  altogether 
responsible  for  the  demoralization.  The  soldiers 
and  laborers  were  Spanish,  French,  Italian,  and  ne- 
groes, many  of  whom  had  probably  been  in  prison  or 
the  convict  hulks,  and  were  sent  to  Africa  for  their 
country's  good. 

The  frigate  had  five  seaworthy  boats,  which  were 
hurriedly  launched  and  filled  with  people  whose 
only  thought  was  to  save  their  own  skins.  In  one 
of  them  was  the  governor  of  Senegal  and  his  family, 
and  in  another  were  placed  four  children  and  the 
wives  of  the  officials.  In  this  respect  the  ancient 
chivalry  of  the  sea  was  lived  up  to.  There  were 
heroes  among  the  French  army  officers,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  for  they  kept  clear  of  the  strug- 
gle for  the  boats,  and  succeeded  in  holding  most  of 
their  men,  who  were  assigned  to  the  one  raft  which 
had  been  frantically  thrown  together. 

The  five  boats  shoved  off  and  waited  for  the  raft, 
which  it  was  proposed  to  take  in  tow.  Barrels  of 
bread  and  wine  and  water  had  been  hoisted  on  deck, 


56     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

but  in  the  confusion  almost  all  the  stores  were 
thrown  into  the  boats.  M.  Correard,  geographical 
engineer  attached  to  the  expedition,  had  gallantly 
volunteered  to  take  chances  with  his  own  men  on 
the  raft.  He  had  kept  his  wits  about  him,  and  de- 
layed to  ask  Captain  de  Chaumareys  whether  navi- 
gation instruments  and  charts  had  been  provided  for 
the  raft.  He  was  assured  that  a  naval  officer  was 
attending  to  these  essentials  and  would  be  in  charge 
of  the  party.  Forgetting  his  duty  entirely,  this 
faithless  officer  scrambled  into  one  of  the  boats,  and 
the  raft  was  left  without  means  of  guidance. 

There  are  cowards  in  all  services,  afloat  and 
ashore,  but  they  are  seldom  conspicuous.  Among 
those  who  fled  away  in  the  boats  was  the  gay  Cap- 
tain de  Chaumareys,  who  oozed  through  a  port-hole 
without  delaying  a  moment.  In  this  manner  he  dis- 
appeared from  the  narrative,  the  last  glimpse  of  him 
as  framed  in  the  port-hole  while  his  ship  was  still 
crowded  with  terrified  castaways  for  whom  there 
were  no  boats.  He  was  a  feather-brained  poltroon 
who,  by  accident,  happened  to  be  a  Frenchman. 

There  were  intrepid  men  in  the  Medusa  who 
bullied  the  others  into  helping  make  a  raft.  The 
best  that  they  could  do  was  to  launch  a  pitiful  con- 
trivance of  spars  and  planks  held  together  by  lash- 
ings. It  was  sixty-five  feet  long  and  twenty  broad, 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  57 

not  even  decked  over,  twisting  and  working  to  the 
motion  of  the  waves  which  slapped  over  it  or 
splashed  between  the  timbers  when  the  ocean  was 
smooth.  As  soon  as  it  floated  alongside  the  frigate, 
one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  wildly  jammed  them- 
selves upon  it,  standing  in  water  to  their  waists  and 
in  danger  of  slipping  between  the  spars  and  planks. 
The  only  part  of  the  raft  which  was  unsubmerged 
when  laden  had  room  for  no  more  than  fifteen  men 
to  lie  down  upon  it. 

The  weather  was  still  calm,  and  the  ship  rested 
solidly  upon  her  sandy  bed,  the  upper  decks  clear 
of  water.  It  seems  incredible  that  no  barrels  of 
beef  and  biscuit  were  lashed  to  the  timbers  of  the 
raft,  no  water-casks  rolled  from  the  tiers  and  swung 
overside.  A  kind  of  mob  hysteria  swept  these  peo- 
ple along,  and  the  men  of  resolution  were  carried 
with  it.  They  were  unaccustomed  to  the  sea,  and  a 
frenzied  fear  of  it  stampeded  them.  The  flimsy, 
wave-washed  raft  floated  away  from  the  Medusa 
with  only  biscuit  enough  for  one  scanty  meal  and  a 
few  casks  of  wine.  The  stage  was  set,  as  one  might 
say,  for  inevitable  horrors. 

One  of  the  boats  which  was  not  so  crowded  as  the 
others  had  the  grace  to  row  back  to  the  ship  with 
orders  to  take  off  a  few,  if  there  were  men  still 
aboard.  To  the  surprise  of  the  lieutenant  in  the 


58     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

boat,  sixty  men  had  been  left  behind  because  there 
was  not  even  a  foothold  for  them  upon  the  raft. 
The  boat  managed  to  stow  all  but  seventeen  of 
them,  who  were  very  drunk  by  this  time  and  pre- 
ferred to  stand  by  the  ship  and  the  spirit-room. 
The  fear  of  death  had  ceased  to  trouble  them. 

For  the  moment  let  us  shift  the  scene  to  survey 
the  fate  of  these  seventeen  poor  wretches  who  were 
abandoned  on  board  of  the  Medusa.  The  five  boats 
reached  the  African  coast  and  most  of  their  com- 
pany lived  to  find  Senegal.  The  governor  be- 
thought himself  that  a  large  amount  of  specie  had 
been  left  in  the  wreck,  and  he  sent  a  little  vessel  off ; 
but  lack  of  provisions  and  bad  weather  drove  her 
twice  back  to  port,  so  that  fifty-two  days,  more  than 
seven  weeks,  had  passed  before  the  Medusa  was 
sighted,  her  upper  works  still  above  water. 

Three  of  the  seventeen  men  were  found  alive, 
"but  they  lived  in  separate  corners  of  the  hulk  and 
never  met  but  to  run  at  each  other  with  drawn 
knives."  Several  others  had  sailed  off  on  a  tiny  raft 
which  was  cast  up  on  the  coast  of  the  Sahara,  but  the 
men  were  drowned.  A  lone  sailor  drifted  away  on 
a  hencoop  as  the  craft  of  his  choice,  and  foundered 
in  sight  of  the  frigate.  All  the  rest  had  died  of  too 
little  food  and  too  much  rum,  after  the  provisions 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  59 

had  been  lost  or  spoiled  by  the  breaking  up  of  the 
ship. 

It  was  understood  that  the  raft,  with  its  burden  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  souls,  was  to  be  taken  in  tow 
by  the  five  boats  strung  in  a  line,  and  this  flotilla 
would  make  for  the  nearest  coast,  which  might 
have  been  reached  in  two  or  three  days  of  favoring 
weather.  After  a  few  hours  of  slow,  but  encourag- 
ing, progress,  the  tow-line  of  the  captain's  boat 
parted.  Instead  of  making  fast  to  the  raft  again, 
all  the  other  boats  cast  off  their  cables  and,  under 
sail  and  oar,  set  off  to  the  eastward  to  save  them- 
selves. The  miserable  people  who  beheld  this  de- 
sertion denounced  it  as  an  act  of  cruelty  and  perfidy 
beyond  belief.  It  may  have  been  in  the  captain's 
mind  to  make  haste  and  send  a  vessel  to  pick  up  the 
castaways,  but  his  previous  behavior  had  been  such 
that  he  scarcely  deserves  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

On  the  makeshift  raft  there  were  those  who  knew 
how  to  die  like  Frenchmen  and  gentlemen.  What 
they  endured  has  been  handed  down  to  us  in  the 
personal  accounts  of  M.  Correard  and  M.  Savigny, 
colonial  officials  who  wrote  with  that  touch,  vivid 
and  dramatic,  which  is  the  gift  of  many  of  their 
race.  Even  in  translation  it  is  profoundly  moving. 
When  they  saw  the  boats  forsake  them  and  vanish 


60     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

at  the  edge  of  the  azure  horizon,  a  stupor  fell  upon 
these  unfortunate  people  as  they  clung  to  one 
another  with  arms  locked  and  bodies  pressed  to- 
gether so  that  they  might  not  be  washed  off  the  raft. 
A  small  group  in  whom  nobility  of  character 
burned  like  an  unquenchable  flame  assumed  the 
leadership,  attempting  to  maintain  some  sort  of 
discipline  and  decency,  to  ration  the  precious  wine, 
to  make  the  raft  more  seaworthy.  One  of  the 
artisans  had  a  pocket  compass,  which  he  displayed 
amid  shouts  of  joy,  but  it  slipped  from  his  fingers 
and  was  lost.  They  had  no  chart  or  any  other  re- 
source of  the  kind. 

"The  first  day  passed  in  a  manner  sufficiently  tranquil. 
We  talked  of  the  means  by  which  we  would  save  ourselves ; 
we  spoke  of  it  as  a  certain  circumstance,  which  reani- 
mated our  courage ;  and  we  sustained  that  of  the  soldiers 
by  cherishing  in  them  the  hope  of  being  able,  in  a  short 
time,  to  revenge  themselves  on  those  who  had  abandoned 
them.  ...  In  the  evening  our  hearts  and  our  prayers, 
by  a  feeling  natural  to  the  unfortunate,  were  turned  to- 
ward Heaven.  Surrounded  by  inevitable  dangers,  we  ad- 
dressed that  invisible  Being  who  has  established  the  order 
of  the  universe.  Our  vows  were  fervent  and  we  experi- 
enced from  our  prayers  the  cheering  influence  of  hope.  It 
is  necessary  to  have  been  in  similar  circumstances  before 
one  can  rightly  imagine  what  a  solace  to  the  hearts  of 
the  sufferers  is  the  sublime  idea  of  a  God  protecting  the 
afflicted." 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  61 

Such  were  the  reflections  of  a  little  group  of 
devout  and  high-minded  Frenchmen  whose  example 
helped  to  steady  the  rest  of  the  castaways  in  the 
early  hours  of  their  ordeal.  During  the  first  night 
the  wind  increased,  and  the  sea  became  so  boisterous 
that  the  waves  gushed  and  roared  across  the  raft, 
most  of  which  was  three  feet  under  water.  A  few 
ropes  were  stretched  for  the  people  to  cling  to,  but 
they  were  washed  to  and  fro,  and  many  were  caught 
and  killed  or  cruelly  hurt  between  the  grinding  tim- 
bers. Others  were  swept  into  the  sea.  Twenty  of 
the  company  had  perished  before  dawn.  Two 
ship's  boys  and  a  baker,  after  bidding  farewell  to 
their  comrades,  threw  themselves  into  the  ocean  as 
the  easier  end.  A  survivor  wrote: 

"During  the  whole  of  this  night  we  struggled  against 
death,  holding  ourselves  closely  to  those  spars  which  were 
firmly  bound  together;  tossed  by  the  waves  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  and  sometimes  precipitated  into  the  sea; 
floating  between  life  and  death,  mourning  over  our  mis- 
fortunes, certain  of  perishing,  yet  contending  for  the 
remainder  of  existence  with  that  cruel  element  which  had 
determined  to  swallow  us  up.  Such  was  our  situation  till 
break  of  day." 

Already  the  minds  of  some  of  the  castaways  were 
affected.  When  the  day  came  clear  and  beautiful, 
they  saw  visions  of  ships,  of  green  shores,  of  loved 


62     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ones  at  home.  While  the  ocean  granted  them  a 
respite,  the  emotion  of  hope  strongly  revived,  and 
their  manifold  woes  were  forgotten  as  they  gazed 
landward  or  waited  for  sight  of  a  sail. 

"Two  young  men  raised  and  recognized  their  father 
who  had  fallen  and  was  lying  insensible  among  the  feet  of 
the  soldiers.  They  believed  him  to  be  dead  and  their  de- 
spair was  expressed  in  the  most  affecting  manner.  He 
slowly  revived  and  was  restored  to  life  in  response  to  the 
prayers  of  his  sons  who  supported  him  closely  folded  in 
their  arms.  This  touching  scene  of  filial  piety  drew  our 
tears." 

The  second  night  again  brought  clouds  and 
squally  weather,  which  agitated  the  ocean  and  swept 
the  raft.  In  a  wailing  mass  the  people  were  dashed 
to  and  fro  and  were  crushed  or  drowned.  The  ruf- 
fianly soldiers  and  sailors  broached  the  wine-casks, 
and  so  lost  such  last  glimmerings  of  reason  as  terror 
had  not  deprived  them  of.  They  insanely  attacked 
the  other  survivors,  and  at  intervals  a  battle  raged 
all  night  long,  with  sabers,  knives,  and  bayonets. 
The  brave  M.  Correard  had  fallen  into  a  swoon  of 
exhaustion,  but  was  aroused  by  the  cries  of  "To 
arms,  comrades !  Rally,  or  we  are  lost  I"  He  mus- 
tered a  small  force  of  loyal  laborers  and  a  few  offi- 
cers and  led  them  in  a  charge.  The  rebels  sur- 
rounded them,  but  were  beaten  back  after  much 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  63 

bloodshed.     The  scenes  were  thus  depicted  by  the 
pen  of  M.  Savigny : 

The  day  had  been  beautiful  and  no  one  seemed  to  doubt 
that  the  boats  would  appear  in  the  course  of  it,  to  relieve 
us  from  our  perilous  state ;  but  the  evening  approached 
and  none  was  seen.  From  that  moment  a  spirit  of  sedi- 
tion spread  from  man  to  man,  and  manifested  itself  by  the 
must  furious  shouts.  Night  came  on,  the  heavens  were 
obscured  by  thick  clouds,  the  wind  rose  and  with  it  the 
sea.  The  waves  broke  over  us  every  moment,  numbers 
were  carried  into  the  sea,  particularly  at  the  ends  of  the 
raft,  and  the  crowding  towards  the  centre  of  it  was  so 
great  that  several  poor  people  were  smothered  by  the  pres- 
sure of  their  comrades  who  were  unable  to  keep  their  legs. 

Firmly  persuaded  that  they  were  all  on  the  point  of 
being  drowned,  both  soldiers  and  sailors  resolved  to  soothe 
their  last  moments  by  drinking  until  they  lost  their  rea- 
son. Excited  by  the  fumes  acting  on  empty  stomachs 
and  heads  already  disordered  by  danger,  they  now  became 
deaf  to  the  voice  of  reason  and  boldly  declared  their  inten- 
tion to  murder  their  officers  and  then  cut  the  ropes  which 
bound  the  raft  together.  One  of  them,  seizing  an  axe,  ac- 
tually began  the  dreadful  work.  This  was  the  signal  for 
revolt.  The  officers  rushed  forward  to  quell  the  tumult 
and  the  mutineer  with  the  axe  was  the  first  to  fall,  his 
head  split  by  a  sabre. 

The  passengers  joined  the  officers  but  the  mutineers 
were  still  the  greater  number.  Luckily  they  were  but 
badly  armed,  or  the  few  bayonets  and  sabres  of  the  op- 
posite party  could  not  have  kept  them  at  bay.  One  fel- 
low, detected  in  secretly  cutting  the  ropes,  was  immedi- 
ately flung  overboard.  Others  destroyed  the  shrouds  and 


64     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

halliards  of  the  sail,  and  the  mast,  deprived  of  support, 
fell  upon  a  captain  of  infantry  and  broke  his  thigh.  He 
was  instantly  seized  by  the  soldiers  and  thrown  into  the 
sea,  but  the  officers  saved  him.  A  furious  assault  was  now 
made  upon  the  mutineers,  many  of  whom  were  cut  down. 

At  length  this  fit  of  desperation  subsided  into  weeping 
cowardice.  They  cried  out  for  mercy  and  asked  for  for- 
giveness upon  their  knees.  It  was  now  midnight  and  or- 
der appeared  to  be  restored,  but  after  an  hour  of  deceitful 
calm  the  insurrection  burst  forth  anew.  The  mutineers 
ran  upon  the  officers  like  madmen,  each  having  a  knife  or 
sabre  in  his  hand,  and  such  was  the  fury  of  the  assail- 
ants that  they  tore  with  their  teeth  the  flesh  and  even  the 
clothing  of  their  adversaries.  There  was  no  time  for  hes- 
itation, a  general  slaughter  took  place,  and  the  raft  was 
strewn  with  dead  bodies. 

v 

There  was  one  woman  on  the  raft,  and  the  vil- 
lains had  thrown  her  overboard  during  the  struggle, 
together  with  her  husband,  who  had  heroically  de- 
fended her.  M.  Correard,  gashed  with  saber- 
wounds  as  he  was,  leaped  into  the  sea  with  a  rope 
and  rescued  the  wife,  while  Lavilette,  the  head 
workman,  swam  after  the  husband  and  hauled  him 
to  the  raft. 

The  first  thing  the  poor  woman  did,  after  recovering 
her  senses,  was  to  acquaint  herself  with  the  name  of  the 
person  who  had  saved  her  and  to  express  to  him  her  live- 
liest gratitude.  Finding  that  her  words  but  ill  reflected 
her  feelings,  she  recollected  that  she  had  in  her  pocket  a 
little  snuff  and  instantly  offered  it  to  him.  Touched  with 


THE  BRIG,  WHICH  HAD  MADE  A  LONG  TACK  AND  WAS  NOW 
STEERING  STRAIGHT  TOWARD  THE  RAFT 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  65 

the  gift  but  unable  to  use  it,  M.  Correard  gave  it  to  a 
wounded  sailor,  which  served  him  two  or  three  days.  But 
it  is  impossible  to  describe  a  still  more  affecting  scene, — 
the  joy  this  unfortunate  couple  testified  when  they  were 
again  conscious,  at  finding  they  were  both  saved. 

The  woman  was  a  native  of  the  Swiss  Alps  who 
had  followed  the  armies  of  France  as  a  sutler,  or 
vivandiere,  for  twenty  years,  through  many  of  Na- 
poleon's campaigns.  Bronzed,  intrepid,  facing 
death  with  a  gesture,  she  said  to  M.  Correard: 

I  am  a  useful  woman,  you  see,  a  veteran  of  great  and 
glorious  wars.  Therefore,  if  you  please,  be  so  good  as  to 
continue  to  preserve  my  life.  Ah,  if  you  knew  how  often 
I  have  ventured  upon  the  fields  of  battle  and  braved  the 
bullets  to  carry  assistance  to  our  gallant  men !  Whether 
they  had  money  or  not,  I  always  let  them  have  my  goods. 
Sometimes  a  battle  would  deprive  me  of  my  poor  debtors, 
but  after  the  victory  others  would  pay  me  double  or  triple 
for  what  they  had  consumed  before  the  engagement. 
Thus  I  came  in  for  a  share  of  the  victories. 

It  was  during  a  lull  of  the  dreadful  conflict 
among  these  pitiful  castaways  that  M.  Savigny  was 
moved  to  exclaim : 

The  moon  lighted  with  her  melancholy  rays  this  dis- 
astrous raft,  this  narrow  space  on  which  were  found  united 
so  many  torturing  anxieties,  a  madness  so  insensate,  a 
courage  so  heroic,  and  the  most  generous,  the  most  amia- 
ble sentiments  of  nature  and  humanity. 


66     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Another  night  came,  and  the  crazed  mutineers 
made  an  attack  even  more  savage.  It  was  not 
altogether  impelled  by  the  blind  instinct  of  survival, 
for  again  they  tried  to  tear  the  raft  apart  and  de- 
stroy themselves  with  it.  They  were  so  many 
ravening  beasts.  Those  who  resisted  them  dis- 
played many  instances  of  brave  and  beautiful  self- 
sacrifice.  One  of  the  loyal  laborers  was  seized  by 
four  of  the  rebels,  who  were  about  to  kill  him,  but 
Lavilette,  formerly  a  sergeant  of  Napoleon's  Old 
Guard,  rushed  in  and  subdued  them  with  the  butt  of 
a  carbine  and  so  saved  the  victim  of  their  rage. 

A  young  lieutenant  fell  into  the  hands  of  these 
maniacs,  and  again  there  were  volunteers  to  rush  in 
against  overwhelming  numbers  and  effect  a  rescue, 
regardless  of  their  grievous  wounds.  Bleeding  and 
exhausted,  M.  Coudin  had  fallen  upon  a  barrel,  but 
he  still  held  in  his  arms  a  twelve-year-old  sailor-boy 
whom  he  was  trying  to  shield  from  harm.  The 
rebels  tossed  them  both  into  the  sea,  but  M.  Coudin 
clung  to  the  lad  and  insisted  that  he  be  placed  upon 
the  raft  before  he  permitted  himself  to  be  helped. 

During  these  periods  of  hideous  combat  among 
men  who  should  have  been  brethren  and  comrades 
in  tribulation,  as  many  as  sixty  of  them  were 
drowned  or  died  of  their  wounds.  Only  two  of 
these  belonged  to  the  little  party  of  finely  tempered 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  67 

souls  who  had  shown  themselves  to  be  greatly  heroic. 
They  had  withstood  one  onslaught  after  another, 
and  there  were  never  more  than  twenty  of  them,  in 
honor  preferring  one  another,  untouched  by  the 
murderous  delirium  which  had  afflicted  the  others. 

True,  they  saw  phantasms  and  talked  wildly,  but 
the  illusions  were  peaceful.  M.  Correard  imagined 
that  he  was  traveling  through  the  lovely,  fruitful 
fields  of  Italy.  One  of  the  officers  said  to  him, 
quite  calmly,  "I  recollect  that  we  were  abandoned 
by  the  boats,  but  there  is  no  cause  for  anxiety.  I 
am  writing  a  letter  to  the  Government,  and  in  a 
few  hours  we  shall  be  saved."  And  while  they  were 
babbling  of  the  cafes  of  Paris  and  Bordeaux  and 
ordering  the  most  elaborate  meals,  they  chewed  the 
leather  of  the  shoulder-belts  and  cartridges,  and 
famine  took  its  daily  toll  of  them.  In  these  circum- 
stances it  was  inevitable  that  sooner  or  later  they 
would  begin  devouring  one  another  for  food. 
The  details  are  repugnant,  and  it  is  just  as  well  to 
pass  over  them.  With  this  same  feeling  in  mind, 
one  of  the  survivors  confessed : 

It  was  necessary,  however,  that  some  extreme  measure 
should  be  adopted  to  support  our  miserable  existence. 
We  shudder  with  horror  on  finding  ourselves  under  the 
necessity  of  recording  that  which  we  put  into  practice. 
We  feel  the  pen  drop  from  our  hands,  a  deadly  coldness 


68     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

freezes  all  our  limbs,  and  our  hair  stands  on  end.  Read- 
ers, we  entreat  you  not  to  entertain,  for  men  already  too 
unhappy,  a  sentiment  of  indignation;  but  to  grieve  for 
them,  and  to  shed  a  tear  of  pity  over  their  sad  lot. 

On  the  fourth  day  a  dozen  more  had  died,  and  the 
survivors  were  "extremely  feeble,  and  bore  upon 
their  faces  the  stamp  of  approaching  dissolution." 
Shipwrecked  crews  have  lived  much  longer  than  this 
without  food,  but  the  situation  of  these  sufferers  was 
peculiarly  dreadful.  And  yet  one  of  them  could 
say: 

This  day  was  serene  and  the  ocean  slumbered.  Our 
hearts  were  in  harmony  with  the  comforting  aspect  of  the 
heavens  and  received  anew  a  ray  of  hope.  A  shoal  of 
flying  fish  passed  under  our  raft  and  as  there  was  an  in- 
finite number  of  openings  between  the  pieces  which  com- 
posed it,  the  fish  were  entangled  in  great  numbers.  We 
threw  ourselves  upon  them  and  took  about  two  hundred 
and  put  them  in  an  empty  barrel.  This  food  seemed  de- 
licious, but  one  man  would  have  required  a  score.  Our 
first  emotion  was  to  give  thanks  to  God  for  this  unhoped 
for  favor. 

An  ounce  of  gunpowder  was  discovered,  and  the 
sunshine  dried  it,  so  that  with  a  steel  and  gun-flints 
a  fire  was  kindled  in  a  wetted  cask  and  some  of  the 
little  fish  were  cooked.  This  was  the  only  food 
vouchsafed  them,  a  mere  shadow  of  substance 
among  so  many,  "but  the  night  was  made  tolerable 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  69 

and  might  have  been  happy  if  it  had  not  been  sig- 
nalized by  a  new  massacre." 

A  mob  of  Spaniards,  Italians,  and  negroes  had 
hatched  a  plot  to  throw  all  the  others  into  the  sea 
and  so  obtain  the  raft  and  what  wine  was  left.  The 
black  men  argued  that  the  coast  was  near  and  that 
they  could  traverse  it  without  danger  from  the  na- 
tives and  so  act  as  guides.  The  leader  of  this  out- 
break was  a  Spaniard,  who  placed  himself  behind 
the  mast,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  with  one  hand, 
waved  a  knife  in  the  other,  and  invoked  the  name  of 
God  as  the  signal  to  rush  forward  and  begin  the 
affray.  Two  faithful  French  sailors,  who  were 
forewarned  of  this  eruption,  lost  not  a  moment  in 
grappling  with  this  devout  desperado,  and  he  was 
thrown  into  the  sea  along  with  an  Asiatic  of  gigantic 
stature  who  was  suspected  of  being  another  ring- 
leader. A  third  instigator  of  the  mob,  perceiving 
that  the  plot  was  discovered,  armed  himself  with  a 
boarding-ax,  hacked  his  way  free,  and  plunged  into 
the  ocean. 

The  rest  of  the  mutineers  were  hardier  lunatics, 
and  they  fought  wildly  in  the  attempt  to  kill  one  of 
the  officers,  under  the  delusion  that  he  was  a  Lieu- 
tenant Danglass,  whom  they  had  hated  for  his 
harsh  manners  while  aboard  the  Medusa.  At 
length  they  were  repulsed,  but  when  the  morning 


70     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

came  only  thirty  persons  remained  alive  of  the  one 
hundred  and  fifty  who  had  left  the  frigate.  Occa- 
sional glimpses  of  reason  prevailed,  as  when  two 
soldiers  were  caught  in  the  act  of  stealing  wine  from 
the  only  cask  left,  and  were  put  to  death  after  a 
summary  courtmartial  conducted  with  singular 
regard  for  form  and  ceremony. 

Among  those  who  mercifully  passed  out  at  the 
end  of  a  week  was  the  twelve-year-old  sailor-boy, 
whose  name  was  Leon.  M.  Savigny  describes  it  so 
tenderly  that  the  passage  is  worth  quoting: 

He  died  like  a  lamp  which  ceases  to  burn  for  want  of 
aliment.  All  spoke  in  favor  of  this  young  and  amiable 
creature  who  merited  a  better  fate.  His  angelic  form, 
his  musical  voice,  the  interest  inspired  by  an  age  so  infan- 
tile, increased  still  more  by  the  courage  he  had  shown  and 
the  services  he  had  performed,  (for  he  had  already  made 
a  campaign  in  the  East  Indies),  moved  us  all  with  the 
deepest  pity  for  this  young  victim.  Our  old  soldiers,  and 
all  the  people  in  general,  did  everything  they  could  to  pro- 
long his  existence.  Neither  the  wine  of  which  they  de- 
prived themselves  without  regret,  nor  all  the  other  means 
they  employed,  could  arrest  his  melancholy  doom. 

He  expired  in  the  arms  of  his  friend,  M.  Coudin,  who 
had  not  ceased  to  give  him  the  most  unwearied  atten- 
tion. Whilst  he  had  strength  to  move  he  ran  incessantly 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  loudly  calling  for  his  mother, 
for  water  and  for  food.  He  trod  upon  the  feet  and  legs 
of  his  wounded  companions  who  in  their  turn  uttered 
cries  of  anguish,  but  these  were  rarely  mingled  with  threats 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  71 

or  reproaches.     They  freely  pardoned  all  that  the  poor 
little  lad  caused  them  to  suffer. 

When  the  number  of  the  living  was  reduced  to 
twenty-seven,  a  solemn  discussion  was  held,  and  ^ 
conclusion  reached  upon  which  it  is  not  for  us  to 
pass  judgment.  It  was  evident  that  fifteen  of  the 
number  were  likely  to  live  a  few  days  longer,  which 
gave  them  a  tangible  hope  of  rescue.  The  other 
twelve  were  about  to  die,  all  of  them  severely 
wounded  and  bereft  of  reason.  There  was  still 
some  wine  in  the  last  cask.  To  divide  it  with  these 
doomed  twelve  was  to  deprive  the  fifteen  stronger 
men  of  the  chance  of  survival.  It  was  decided  to 
give  these  dying  people  to  the  merciful  obliteration 
of  the  sea.  The  execution  of  this  decree  was  under- 
taken by  three  soldiers  and  a  sailor,  chosen  by  lot, 
while  the  others  wept  and  turned  away  their  faces. 

Among  those  whose  feeble  spark  of  life  was 
snuffed  out  in  this  manner  was  that  militant  woman, 
the  sutler  who  had  followed  Napoleon  to  the  plains 
of  Italy.  Both  she  and  her  husband  had  been  fa- 
tally wounded  during  the  last  night  of  the  mutiny, 
and  so  they  went  out  of  life  together,  which  was  as 
they  would  have  wished  it.  More  than  once  in  war 
the  hopelessly  wounded  have  been  put  out  of  the 
way  in  preference  to  leaving  them  in  the  wake  of  a 
retreat  or  burdening  a  column  with  them.  In  this 


72     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

tragedy  of  the  sea  the  decision  was  held  to  be  justi- 
fiable when  the  French  Government  investigated 
the  circumstances. 

With  so  few  of  them  remaining,  the  fifteen  sur- 
vivors were  able  to  assemble  themselves  upon  a  little 
platform  raised  in  the  center  of  the  raft  and  to  build 
a  slight  protection  of  plank  and  spars.  To  rehearse 
their  sufferings  at  greater  length  would  be  to  repel 
the  modern  reader.  It  is  only  in  fiction  that  ship- 
wreck can  be  employed  as  a  theme  for  romance  and 
enjoyable  adventure.  The  reality  is  apt  to  be  very 
stark  and  grim.  It  is  more  congenial  to  remember 
such  fine  bits  as  this,  when  the  handful  of  them 
huddled  upon  the  tiny  platform  in  the  final  days  of 
their  agony: 

On  this  new  theatre  we  resolved  to  meet  death  in  a  man- 
ner becoming  Frenchmen  and  with  perfect  resignation. 
Our  time  was  almost  wholly  spent  in  talking  of  our  beloved 
and  unhappy  country.  All  our  wishes,  our  prayers,  were 
for  the  prosperity  of  France. 

It  was  the  gallant  M.  Correard  who  assured  his 
comrades  that  his  presentiment  of  rescue  was  still 
unshaken,  that  a  series  of  events  so  unheard  of  could 
not  be  destined  to  oblivion  and  that  Providence 
would  certainly  preserve  a  few  to  tell  to  the  world 
the  melancholy  story  of  the  raft.  In  the  bottom  of 
a  sack  were  found  thirty  cloves  of  garlic,  which  were 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  73 

distributed  as  a  precious  alleviation,  and  there  was 
rejoicing  over  a  little  bottle  of  tooth-wash  contain- 
ing cinnamon  and  aromatics.  A  drop  of  it  on  the 
tongue  produced  an  agreeable  feeling, 

and  for  a  short  time  removed  the  thirst  which  destroyed 
us.  Thus  we  sought  with  avidity  an  empty  vial  which 
one  of  us  possessed  and  in  which  had  once  been  some  es- 
sence of  roses.  Every  one,  as  he  got  hold  of  it,  respired 
with  delight  the  odor  it  exhaled,  which  imparted  to  his 
senses  the  most  soothing  impressions.  Emaciated  by  pri- 
vations, the  slightest  comfort  was  to  us  a  supreme  happi- 
ness. 

On  the  ninth  day  they  saw  a  butterfly  of  a  species 
familiar  to  the  gardens  of  France,  and  it  fluttered 
to  rest  upon  the  mast.  It  was  a  harbinger  of  land 
and  an  omen  of  deliverance  in  their  wistful  sight. 
Other  butterflies  visited  them,  but  the  winds  and 
currents  failed  to  set  them  in  close  to  the  coast,  and 
there  was  never  a  glimpse  of  a  sail.  They  existed  in 
quietude,  with  no  more  brawls  or  mutinies,  until 
sixteen  days  had  passed  since  the  wreck  of  the 
Medusa.  Then  a  captain  of  infantry,  scanning  the 
sea  with  aching  eyes,  saw  the  distant  gleam  of 
canvas. 

Soon  they  were  able  to  perceive  that  it  was  a  brig, 
and  they  took  it  to  be  the  Argus  of  their  own  squad- 
ron, which  they  had  been  hoping  would  be  sent  in 


74     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

search  of  them.  They  made  a  flag  out  of  frag- 
ments of  clothing,  and  a  seaman  climbed  to  the  top 
of  the  mast  and  waved  it  until  his  strength  failed. 
The  vessel  grew  larger  through  half  an  hour  of  tears 
and  supplication,  and  then  its  course  was  suddenly 
altered,  and  it  dropped  below  the  sky-line. 

Despair  overwhelmed  them.  They  laid  them- 
selves down  under  a  covering  of  sail-cloth  and  re- 
fused to  glance  at  the  ocean  which  had  mocked  them. 
It  was  proposed  to  write  their  names  and  a  brief 
account  of  their  experience  upon  a  plank  and  affix 
it  to  the  mast  on  the  chance  that  the  tidings  might 
some  day  reach  their  government  and  their  families 
in  France. 

It  was  the  master  gunner  who  crawled  out,  two 
hours  later,  and  trembled  as  he  stared  at  the  brig 
which  had  made  a  long  tack  and  was  now  steering 
straight  toward  the  raft.  The  others  dragged 
themselves  to  their  feet,  forgetting  their  sores  and 
wounds  and  weakness,  and  embraced  one  another. 
From  the  foremast  of  the  brig  flew  an  ensign,  which 
they  joyously  recognized,  and  they  cried,  as  you 
might  have  expected  of  them,  "It  is,  then,  to 
Frenchmen  that  we  shall  owe  our  deliverance." 

The  Argus,  which  had  been  sent  out  by  the  gov- 
ernor of  Senegal,  rounded  to  no  more  than  a  pistol- 
shot  from  the  raft  while  the  crew  "ranged  upon  the 


THE  FRIGATE  MEDUSA  75 

deck  and  in  the  shrouds  announced  to  us  by  the 
waving  of  their  hands  and  hats,  the  pleasure  they 
felt  at  coming  to  the.  assistance  of  their  unfortu- 
nate countrymen." 

Fifteen  men  were  taken  on  board  the  brig  of  the 
hundred  and  fifty  who  had  shoved  away  from  the 
f rigate  M  edusa  a  little  more  than  a  fortnight  earlier. 
There  was  no  more  fiddling  and  dancing  on  deck  for 
"these  helpless  creatures  almost  naked,  their  bodies 
shrivelled  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  ten  of  them 
scarcely  able  to  move,  their  limbs  stripped  of  skin, 
their  eyes  hollow  and  almost  savage,  and  the  long 
beards  giving  them  an  air  almost  hideous." 

They  were  most  tenderly  cared  for  by  the  sur- 
geon of  the  Argus,  but  six  of  them  died  after  reach- 
ing the  African  port  of  St.  Louis.  Only  nine  of 
the  castaways  of  the  Medusa's  raft,  therefore,  lived 
to  return  to  France.  Their  minds  and  bodies  were 
marked  with  the  scars  of  that  experience,  which  you 
will  find  mentioned  very  frequently  in  the  old 
records  of  shipwreck  and  disaster.  It  was  an  epi- 
sode in  human  history,  the  best  and  the  worst  of 
it,  and  a  reminder  of  man's  eternal  conflict  with  the 
sea. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  WRECK  OF  THEBLENDEN  HALL    EAST  INDIAMAN 

IN  this  harassing  modern  age  of  a  world  turned 
upside  down  and  bedeviled  with  one  more 
problem  after  another,  fancy  turns  with  fond  re- 
gret to  those  lucky  sailormen  who  lingered  on  little, 
sea-girt  isles  and  lorded  it  as  monarchs  of  all  they 
surveyed.  Many  an  old  forecastle  had  a  Robinson 
Crusoe,  hairy  and  brown  and  tattoed,  who  could 
spin  strange  yarns  of  years  serenely  passed  among 
the  untutored  natives  of  the  Indian  Ocean  or  the 
South  Seas.  Now  and  then  one  of  them  had  lived 
in  more  solitary  fashion  on  some  remote,  unpeo- 
pled strand,  a  hermit  cast  up  by  the  sea,  and  was 
actually  contented  because  he  had  freed  himself  of 
the  tyranny  of  bosses  and  wages  and  trousers  and 
all  the  other  shackles  of  civilization. 

Alas !  there  are  no  more  realms  like  these.  The 
wireless  mast  lifts  above  the  palm-trees,  and  the 
steamer  whistle  blows  to  recall  the  tourists  from  the 
beaches  where  the  trade-winds  sweep.  There  are 
still  some  very  lonely  places  on  the  watery  globe, 
however,  and  one  of  them  is  the  tiny  group  of  three 

76 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  77 

volcanic  islands  in  the  South  Atlantic  which  is 
known  as  Tristan  da  Cunha.  These  bleak  rocks 
lie  two  thousand  miles  west  of  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  and  four  thousand  miles  to  the  northeast  of 
Cape  Horn.  They  loom  abruptly  from  a  tem- 
pestuous ocean,  which  lashes  the  stark,  black  cliffs, 
and  there  are  no  harbors,  only  an  occasional  fringe 
of  beach  a  few  yards  wide. 

Tristan,  the  largest  of  the  group,  lifts  a  snow- 
clad  peak  almost  eight  thousand  feet  above  the  sea 
as  a  warning  to  mariners  to  steer  wide  of  the  cruel 
reefs.  It  has  a  small  plateau  where  green  things 
grow,  and  living  streams  and  cascades  of  fresh 
water.  The  islands  were  discovered  as  early  as 
1506  by  the  Portuguese  admiral,  Tristan  da  Cunha, 
and  in  later  years  the  Dutch  navigators  and  the 
pioneers  of  the  British  East  India  Company  hove 
to  in  passing,  but  it  was  not  thought  worth  while 
to  hoist  a  flag  over  the  group. 

It  remained  for  a  Yankee  sailor,  Jonathan 
Lambert  of  Salem,  to  choose  Tristan  da  Cunha  as 
his  abiding-place  and  to  issue  a  formal  proclama- 
tion of  his  sovereignty  to  the  other  nations  of  the 
world.  Said  he,  "I  ground  my  right  and  claim  on 
the  sure  and  rational  ground  of  absolute  occu- 
pancy." This  was  undeniable,  and  the  British  Em- 
pire rests  upon  foundations  no  more  convincing. 


78     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Jonathan  Lambert  was  of  the  breed  of  Salem  sea- 
farers who  had  first  carried  the  American  flag  to 
India,  Java,  Sumatra,  and  Japan,  who  opened  the 
trade  with  the  Fiji  Islands  and  Madagascar,  who 
had  been  the  trail-breakers  in  diverting  the  com- 
merce of  South  America  and  China  to  Yankee 
ships.  They  had  sailed  where  no  other  merchant- 
men dared  go,  they  had  anchored  where  no  one  else 
dreamed  of  seeking  trade. 

It  was  therefore  nothing  extraordinary  for  Jon- 
athan Lambert  to  tire  of  roving  the  wide  seas  and 
to  set  himself  up  in  business  as  the  king  of  Tristan 
da  Cunha  which  had  neither  ruler  nor  subjects. 
What  his  ambitions  were  and  how  a  melancholy  end 
overtook  them  is  to  be  found  in  the  sea- journal  of 
Captain  John  White,  who  sailed  the  American  brig 
Franklin  out  to  China  in  1819.  He  wrote: 

On  March  12th  we  saw  and  passed  the  island  of  Tristan 
da  Acunha  which  was  taken  possession  of  in  1810  by  Jona- 
than Lambert.  He  published  a  document  setting  forth 
his  rights  to  the  soil  and  invited  navigators  of  all  nations 
whose  routes  might  lie  near  that  ocean  to  touch  at  his 
settlement  for  supplies  which  he  anticipated  his  industry 
would  draw  from  the  earth  and  the  adjacent  sea.  He 
signified  his  readiness  to  receive  in  payment  for  his  pro- 
duce, which  consisted  of  vegetables,  fruit  and  fish,  what- 
ever might  be  convenient  for  the  visitors  to  part  with 
which  could  be  in  any  way  useful  to  him. 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  79 

In  order  to  carry  out  his  plan,  Jonathan  Lambert 
took  with  him  to  the  island  various  implements  of  hus- 
bandry, seeds  of  the  most  useful  plants,  tropical  trees 
for  transplanting,  etc.  After  he  had  been  on  his  island 
for  about  two  years  it  was  apparent  that  his  efforts  would 
be  crowned  with  success,  but  unfortunately  he  was 
drowned,  with  his  one  associate,  while  visiting  one  of  the 
nearby  islands. 

Another  adventurous  seaman,  Thomas  Currie, 
succeeded  to  this  lonely  principality  by  right  of  oc- 
cupation, and  was  joined  by  two  others.  They 
lived  contentedly  and  raised  wheat  and  oats  and 
pigs  until  in  the  War  of  1812  the  American  naval 
vessels  began  to  use  Tristan  da  Cunha  as  a  base 
from  which  to  harry  British  commerce  in  the  South 
Atlantic.  Then  Great  Britain  formally  annexed 
the  group,  and  kept  a  garrison  of  a  hundred  men 
there  for  two  years. 

When  the  garrison  was  withdrawn,  Corporal 
William  Glass  of  the  Royal  Artillery  was  left  be- 
hind at  his  own  request,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
and  two  privates  decided  to  join  him  as  the  begin- 
nings of  a  colony.  A  few  other  rovers  or  ship- 
wrecked sailors  drifted  to  Tristan  da  Cunha  from 
time  to  time,  and  they  found  girls  at  St.  Helena 
and  Cape  Town  who  were  willing  to  marry  them, 
so  that  there  was  created  a  peaceful,  unworldly  lit- 
tle community  on  this  far-away  island  over  which 


80     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Corporal  William  Glass  ruled  as  a  wise  and  be- 
nevolent patriarch. 

The  Blenden  Hall  was  a  stout  ship  bound  out 
from  England  to  Bombay  in  1820,  an  East  In- 
diaman  of  the  stately  fleet  that  flew  the  house  flag 
of  the  Honorable  Company.  Their  era  was  soon  to 
pass,  with  all  its  color  and  romance,  the  leisurely 
voyage,  the  ceremonious  formality  and  discipline, 
the  pleasant  sociability.  The  swifter  Yankee  mer- 
chant ships,  hard  driven  under  clouds  of  cotton 
duck,  used  to  rush  past  these  jogging  East  India 
"tea-wagons,"  which  shortened  sail  at  sunset  and 
snugged  down  for  the  night.  They  carried  crews 
for  a  man-of-war,  what  with  the  midshipmen,  the 
purser,  the  master-at-arms,  the  armorer,  the  calker, 
the  butcher,  baker,  poulterer,  gunner's  mates,  sail- 
maker,  six  officers  to  assist  the  commander,  and  In- 
dian servants  to  wait  on  them. 

The  passengers  enjoyed  more  comfort  and  lux- 
ury in  these  handsome  old  sailing  ships  than  the 
modern  reader  might  suppose.  The  cabins  were 
much  more  spacious  than  the  liner's  state-rooms  of 
to-day,  the  saloon  was  ornate  with  rugs  and  teak- 
wood,  with  silver  plate  and  the  finest  napery,  and 
dinner  was  an  elaborate  affair,  with  a  band  of  music, 
and  the  commander  and  the  officers  in  the  Com- 
pany's dress  uniform  of  blue  coat  and  gold  buttons, 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  81 

with  waistcoats  and  breeches  of  buff.  Wines,  ale, 
beer,  and  brandy  were  served  without  cost  to  the 
passengers,  and  the  large  staff  of  cooks  and  stew- 
ards was  able  to  find  in  the  storerooms  and  pantries 
such  a  varied  stock  of  provisions  as  beef,  pork, 
bacon,  and  tongues,  bread,  cheese,  butter,  herrings, 
and  salmon,  confectionery,  oatmeal,  oranges,  and 
dried  and  preserved  fruits,  while  a  live  cow  or  two 
supplied  cream  for  the  coffee,  and  the  hen-coops 
stowed  in  the  long-boat  contributed  fresh  eggs. 

The  Blenden  Hall  was  commanded  by  Captain 
Alexander  Greig,  a  sailor  and  a  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  who  had  laid  by  a  comfortable  fortune 
during  his  long  service.  The  trading  ventures  and 
perquisites  of  the  master  of  an  East  Indiaman  often 
yielded  an  income  which  a  modern  bank  president 
would  view  with  profound  respect.  The  captain's 
son,  young  Alexander  Greig,  sailed  as  a  passenger 
on  this  last  voyage  of  the  Blenden  Hall.  He  was 
a  high-spirited  lad,  bound  out  to  join  the  army  in 
India,  and  life  wras  one  zestful  adventure  after  an- 
other. The  modern  youngster  may  well  envy  him 
his  luck  in  being  shipwrecked  on  a  desert  island, 
where  he  wrote  a  diary,  using  penguin's  blood  for 
ink  and  quill  feathers  for  pens. 

If  the  tale  were  fiction  instead  of  fact,  the  begin- 
ning could  be  no  more  auspiciously  romantic. 


82     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Captain  Greig  and  his  son  left  their  English  coun- 
try home  in  their  "travelling  carriage"  for  the 
journey  to  Gravesend  to  join  the  ship.  While 
crossing  Bexley  Heath  they  made  their  pistols 
ready,  for  the  stretch  of  road  was  notorious  for 
highwaymen,  and  as  young  Alexander  Greig  en- 
joyably  tells  us: 

I  soon  observed  that  my  father's  attention  had  been 
attracted  by  two  horsemen  riding  across  the  Heath  at 
full  gallop,  and  notwithstanding  the  postilion  was  evi- 
dently exerting  himself  to  outstrip  our  pursuers,  they 
appeared  to  gain  fast  upon  us.  And  in  fifteen  minutes 
they  called  loudly  to  him  to  stop,  one  of  them  at  the 
same  time  discharging  a  pistol  to  bring  us  to.  My  father, 
after  urging  the  postilion  to  drive  faster  (and  we  seemed 
then  almost  to  fly  across  the  Heath)  told  me  to  be  pre- 
pared to  receive  the  man  on  the  left,  "for,"  said  he,  "we 
will  give  them  a  warm  reception,  at  any  rate." 

I  was  just  about  to  follow  his  advice  when  I  fancied 
that  the  men  allowed  us  to  gain  ground  and  were  out  of 
pistol-shot,  as  I  could  see  them  curbing  their  horses  while 
they  discussed  the  prudence  of  keeping  up  the  pursuit. 
It  was  fortunate  for  them  that  they  did  so,  for  one  of 
them  would  have  received  the  contents  of  my  Joe  Manton, 
as  I  was  resolved  not  to  fire  till  he  came  so  close  to  the 
carriage  that  I  could  make  sure  of  my  man. 

At  the  next  tavern  they  described  the  adventure, 
and  when  young  Greig  mentioned  that  one  of  the 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  83 

rascals  wore  a  red  waistcoat  with  white  stripes,  the 
landlord  exclaimed: 

"Jem  Turner,  by  the  Lord  Harry  1  Aye,  as  sure 
as  fate !  There  is  two  hundred  pounds  reward  for 
him,  dead  or  alive.  The  boldest  rascal  that  rides 
the  Heath!" 

Captain  Greig  concluded,  no  doubt,  that  he  was 
safer  at  sea  again.  The  Blenden  Hall  was  ready 
to  sail,  and  several  of  her  passengers  came  on  board 
at  Gravesend,  while  the  others  were  taken  on  from 
Deal  while  the  ship  tarried  in  the  Downs.  Sixteen 
in  all  were  of  a  social  station  which  permitted  them 
to  meet  at  the  cuddy  table  for  dinner  while  the  ship's 
band  played  "The  Roast  Beef  of  Old  England" 
and  Captain  Greig  pledged  their  health  in  good 
Madeira.  With  a  most  precocious  taste  for  gossip, 
young  Greig  managed  to  portray  his  fellow-voy- 
agers in  an  intimate  manner  that  would  be  hard  to 
match  in  the  true  tales  of  the  sea. 

It  is  just  as  well  to  let  you  gain  some  slight  ac- 
quaintance with  them  before  the  curtain  rises  on  the 
tragedy  of  the  shipwreck.  The  most  conspicuous 
figure  was  Mrs.  Lock,  wife  of  a  commodore  some- 
where on  foreign  service.  She  was  very  fat,  with 
a  hurricane  of  a  temper,  and  of  mixed  blood  in 
which  the  tar  brush  was  undeniable.  Her  English 


84     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

was  badly  broken,  and  her  manners  were  startling. 
She  had  been  the  commodore's  cook  in  his  Indian 
bungalow,  so  the  rumor  ran,  until  for  reasons  in- 
scrutable he  decided  to  marry  her.  Such  a  person 
was  enough  to  set  the  ship's  society  by  the  ears. 
Social  caste  and  station  were  matters  of  immense 
importance.  The  emotions  of  Dr.  Law,  a  fussy  old 
bachelor  of  a  half -pay  naval  surgeon,  were  quite 
beyond  words,  although  he  was  heard  to  mutter: 

"A  vulgar  black  woman,  by  Jove !  And,  damme, 
she  flung  her  arms  around  me  when  she  was  taken 
seasick  at  table." 

There  was  also  consternation  among  such  ex- 
clusive persons  as  Captain  Miles,  and  six  assistant 
surgeons  in  the  Honorable  Company's  military 
service,  Major  Reid  of  the  Poonah  Auxiliary 
Forces,  and  Quartermaster  Hormby  and  his  lady, 
of  his  Majesty's  foot.  The  dignified  commander 
of  the  Blenden  Hall  felt  it  necessary  to  explain  that 
passage  for  the  chocolate-hued  spouse  of  the  erring 
commodore  had  been  obtained  under  false  pretenses. 
As  if  this  were  not  enough,  another  social  shock  was 
in  store. 

Lieutenant  Painter,  a  bluff,  good-humored  naval 
man,  had  come  on  board  at  Gravesend.  While  the 
ship  was  anchored  in  the  Downs,  he  was  one  of  the 
passengers  who  asked  the  captain  to  set  them  ashore 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  85 

in  the  cutter  for  a  stroll  in  Deal.  When  they  re- 
turned to  the  boat,  Lieutenant  Painter  was  missing. 
Nothing  whatever  was  heard  of  him  for  two  days, 
and  Captain  Greig  felt  seriously  alarmed.  Then 
a  boatman  brought  off  a  letter  in  which  the  gallant 
lieutenant  explained  that  he  had  been : 

most  actively  engaged  not  only  in  beginning  but  in  finish- 
ing a  courtship  and  that  it  was  his  intention  to  join  the 
ship  before  dinner  when  he  would  do  himself  the  honor  to 
introduce  Mrs.  Painter  to  the  captain  and  passengers. 
He  requested  that  a  larger  cabin  could  be  prepared,  in 
which  he  could  "stow  away  his  better  half." 

There  was  great  excitement  and  curiosity  in  the 
cuddy  of  the  Blenden  Hall  as  the  dinner-hour  drew 
near.  The  impetuous  romance  of  the  brisk  Lieu- 
tenant Painter  was  sensational.  At  length  a  boat 
was  pulled  alongside,  and  a  chair  rigged  and  low- 
ered from  the  lofty  deck.  The  boatswain  piped, 
and  the  lovely  burden  was  safely  hoisted  to  the 
poop,  followed  by  the  beaming  lieutenant,  who 
scrambled  up  the  gangway.  First  impressions 
were  favorable.  The  bride  was  young  and  hand- 
some. Her  physical  charms  were  so  robust,  how- 
ever, that  she  stood  a  foot  taller  than  her 
bantam  of  a  husbandv  and  the  audience  was 
amused  when  she  grasped  his  arm  and  heartily 
exclaimed : 


86     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

"Come,  little  Painter,  let  me  see  this  fine  cabin 
of  yours." 

It  was  soon  perceived  that  the  vigorous  Mrs. 
Painter  was  not  a  lady.  The  dreadful  truth  was 
not  revealed,  however,  until  a  grizzled  Deal  boat- 
man was  discovered  lingering  at  the  gangway. 
When  one  of  the  mates  asked  him  his  errand,  he 
answered : 

"Why,  I  only  want  to  say  goodbye  to  my  gel, 
Bet,  but  I  suppose  the  gold-buttoned  swab  of  a 
leftenant  has  turned  her  'ead.  Blowed  if  I  reck- 
oned my  own  darter  'ud  forget  me." 

Hiding  in  her  cabin,  the  daughter  wished  to  avoid 
such  a  farewell  scene,  but  she  could  hear  the  old 
man  ramble  on : 

"She  'as  no  occasion  to  feel  ashamed  of  her  fa- 
ther. I  Ve  been  a  Deal  boatman  these  fifty  years 
and  brought  up  a  large  family  respectably,  as  Cap- 
tain Greig  well  knows." 

At  this  the  emotional  Mrs.  Painter  rushed  on 
deck  to  embrace  her  humble  sire  and  weep  in  his 
gray  whiskers,  a  scene  which  the  fastidious  pas- 
sengers found  too  painful  to  witness.  Henceforth, 
through  varied  scenes  of  shipwreck  and  suffering, 
the  dominant  figures  were  to  be  the  youthful,  up- 
standing Mrs.  Painter  and  the  dusky  and  corpulent 
Mrs.  Lock,  heroines  of  two  rash  marriages,  and 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  87 

foreordained  to  hate  each  other  with  a  ferocity 
which  not  even  the  daily  fear  of  death  could  dimin- 
ish. In  the  presence  of  such  protagonists  as  these, 
the  ship's  company  was  like  a  Greek  chorus.  There 
was  something  almost  superb  in  such  a  feminine 
feud.  It  was  no  peevish  quarrel  over  the  tea- 
cups. Moreover,  it  could  have  no  dull  mo- 
ments, because  both  women  had  vocabularies  of 
singular  force  and  emphasis.  The  forecastle  of  the 
Blenden  Hall  could  do  no  better  in  its  most  lurid 
moments. 

It  began  with  an  affectionate  intimacy,  then 
squalls  and  reconciliations,  while  the  stately  East 
Indiaman  jogged  to  the  southward  and  the  band 
played  on  deck  for  dancing  after  dinner.  How  far 
these  two  stormy  women  were  responsible  must  be 
left  to  conjecture,  but  there  seems  to  have  been  a 
vast  deal  of  squabbling  and  bad  blood  among  the 
passengers,  as  indicated  by  the  following  entry  in 
the  journal  of  young  Alexander  Greig,  the  cap- 
tain's son: 

Although  I  endeavored  to  detach  myself,  as  much  as 
possible,  from  any  particular  party  (by  giving  two  en- 
tertainments a  week  in  my  private  cabin  and  sending 
around  a  general  invitation)  I  received  one  or  two  polite 
requests  to  meet  the  writers  at  the  first  port  we  might 
touch  at  and  to  grant  them  the  satisfaction  due  from  one 
gentleman  to  another,  &c.,  &c.,  for  alleged  affronts  that 


88     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

I  had  unconsciously  committed.  For  the  life  of  me  I 
could  not  have  defined  what  the  affronts  were,  but  I 
wrote  each  party  an  answer  that  I  should  be  happy  to 
accept,  and  then  deposited  their  beautiful  gilt-edged  little 
notes  in  my  desk. 

There  was  an  occasional  diversion  which  patched 
up  a  truce,  such  as  meeting  with  an  armed  brig 
which  was  suspected  to  be  a  pirate.  The  chief  of- 
ficer, in  the  mizzen-rigging  with  a  telescope,  shouted 
down  that  the  brig  was  cleared  for  action.  The 
second  mate  rushed  forward  and  yelled  to  the  boat- 
swain to  pipe  all  hands  on  deck.  The  gunner 
served  out  pistols  and  cutlasses  to  the  seamen  and 
the  passengers,  boarding-pikes  were  stacked  along 
the  heavy  bulwarks,  and  the  battery  of  six  eighteen- 
pounders  was  loaded  with  grape  and  canister. 
Things  looked  even  more  serious  when  the  brig 
hauled  down  a  British  ensign  and  tacked  to  get  the 
weather  gage  of  the  East  Indiaman. 

Some  of  the  passengers  were  frightened,  and 
others  professed  an  eagerness  to  engage  in  a 
"set-to."  Dr.  Law,  the  half-pay  naval  surgeon, 
strode  the  deck  with  a  drawn  sword.  He  was  filled 
with  valor  and  Scotch  whisky,  and  offered  to  wager 
any  man  a  hundred  guineas  that  he  would  be  the 
first  to  board  the  enemy.  Mrs.  Commodore  Lock 
waddled  about  uttering  loud  lamentations,  and 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  89 

vowed  that  a  friend  of  hers  had  been  eaten  alive  by 
pirates.  Nightfall  closed  down,  however,  before 
the  brig  could  overtake  the  Elenden  Hall,  which 
surged  before  the  wind  with  studding-sails  spread. 

Captain  Greig  was  in  some  doubt  as  to  his  reck- 
oning, because  of  thick  weather,  when  the  ship  had 
entered  the  lonely  expanse  of  the  South  Atlantic, 
and  he  therefore  steered  for  a  sight  of  Tristan  da 
Cunha  in  order  to  make  certain  of  his  position. 
He  proceeded  cautiously,  but  soon  after  breakfast, 
on  July  23,  1820,  breakers  were  descried  close  at 
hand.  The  wind  died,  and  the  ship  was  drifting. 
Anchors  were  let  go,  but  the  water  was  too  deep 
to  find  holding-ground,  and  a  dense  fog  obscured 
the  sea.  The  ship  struck  in  breakers  so  violent  that 
the  decks  were  swept,  the  boats  smashed,  and  the 
houses  filled  with  water.  The  masts  were  promptly 
cut  away,  but  the  Elenden  Hall  was  rapidly  pound- 
ing to  death  with  a  broken  back.  All  hands  rushed 
forward  and  crowded  upon  the  forecastle  just  be- 
fore the  rest  of  the  ship  was  wrenched  asunder  and 
floated  away. 

Two  seamen  had  been  killed  by  falling  spars,  but 
all  the  rest  of  the  ship's  company,  eighty  souls  of 
them,  were  alive  and  praying  for  rescue.  After 
several  hours  of  misery,  a  few  sailors  managed  to 
knock  a  raft  together  and  so  reached  the  shore, 


90     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

which  had  disclosed  itself  as  frightfully  forbidding 
and  desolate.  The  ship  had  been  wrecked  among 
the  reefs  of  Inaccessible  Island,  one  of  the  Tristan 
da  Cunha  group.  By  a  sort  of  miracle  the  bow 
of  the  ship  finally  detached  itself  from  among  the 
rocks  and  washed  toward  the  tiny  strip  of  beach. 
Clinging  to  the  stout  timbers  of  the  forecastle,  all 
the  survivors  were  safely  delivered  from  the  terrors 
of  the  sea. 

Through  the  first  night  they  could  only  shiver  in 
the  rain  and  wonder  what  fate  had  befallen  them. 
At  dawn  they  began  to  explore  the  island,  which 
appeared  to  be  no  more  than  a  gigantic  rock,  black 
and  savage,  which  towered  into  the  clouds.  Fresh 
water  was  found,  but  hunger  menaced  them.  The 
first  bit  of  flotsam  from  the  wreck  was  a  case  of 
"Hibbert's  Celebrated  Bottled  Porter,"  which  was 
a  beverage  with  a  kick  to  it,  and  for  the  moment  life 
looked  not  quite  so  dismal.  On  the  beach  were 
huge  sea-lions,  creatures  twenty  feet  in  length,  but 
there  was  no  way  to  slay  and  use  them  for  food. 
Many  sea-birds  were  killed  with  clubs  and  eaten 
raw,  which  postponed  famine  for  the  time. 

And  now  there  floated  ashore  bales  of  red  broad- 
cloth, which  was  promptly  cut  up  for  clothing.  It 
was  grotesque  to  see  the  sailors  and  passengers 
parading  in  gorgeous  tunics  and  robes  of  crimson, 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  91 

with  white  turbans  fashioned  from  bolts  of  muslin. 
With  bamboo-poles,  also  washed  from  the  ship, 
Captain  Greig  set  his  men  to  making  tents  for  the 
women.  There  was  very  little  material,  however, 
and  most  of  the  people  sat  around  in  a  sort  of 
wretched  stupor,  drenched,  benumbed,  hopeless. 
Several  barrels  of  strong  liquors  came  rolling  in 
with  the  surf,  and  the  sailors,  of  course,  drank  all 
they  could  hold.  One  of  them,  an  old  barnacle 
named  John  Dulliver,  showed  a  streak  of  marked 
sagacity.  After  tapping  a  barrel  of  Holland  gin 
and  guzzling  to  the  limit  of  his  stowage  space,  he 
stove  in  one  end,  emptied  the  barrel,  and  crawled 
snugly  into  it  to  slumber.  This  seemed  such  a 
brilliant  notion  that  as  fast  as  the  ship's  water- 
barrels  drifted  ashore  they  were  tenanted  by  cast- 
aways who  resembled  so  many  hermit-crabs. 

For  six  days  the  party  forlornly  existed  in  con- 
tinuous rain,  with  no  means  of  kindling  a  fire,  and 
eating  raw  pork  that  was  cast  up  by  the  sea  and 
such  birds  as  they  could  obtain.  Then  a  case  of 
surgical  instruments  was  found  on  the  beach,  and 
it  contained  a  providential  flint  and  steel.  Fire 
was  made,  and  spears  were  contrived  of  poles,  with 
knives  lashed  to  them,  so  that  the  monstrous  sea- 
lions  could  be  killed  and  used  for  food.  There 
were  millions  of  penguins,  and  their  eggs  could  be 


92     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

had  for  the  gathering.  It  was  hard,  revolting  fare, 
but  other  castways  had  lived  for  months,  and  even 
years  on  food  no  worse,  and  the  horrors  of  famine 
were  averted. 

Captain  Greig  was  taken  ill,  and  his  authority 
therefore  amounted  to  little.  His  officers  were  not 
the  men  for  such  a  crisis  as  this,  and  they  do  not  ap- 
pear to  have  been  able  to  master  it.  The  sailors 
were  insolent  and  lazy,  no  doubt  of  it,  and  young 
Mr.  Greig  devotes  many  pages  of  his  diary  to  abuse 
of  them.  It  is  quite  evident,  however,  that  the  offi- 
cers and  passengers  felt  themselves  to  be  superior 
beings  and  expected  the  sailors  to  wait  on  them  as 
menials.  In  such  a  situation  as  this  one  man  was 
as  good  as  another,  and  the  doctrines  of  caste  and 
rank  properly  belonged  in  the  discard.  It  was 
rather  pitiful  and  absurd,  as  one  catches  glimpses 
of  it  in  the  ingenuous  narrative  of  the  very  young 
Mr.  Greig. 

For  a  few  days  after  the  wreck  it  was  hail  fellow,  well 
met,  but  Jack,  once  put  upon  an  equality,  began  to  take 
unwarrantable  liberties,  and  as  familiarity  is  generally  the 
forefunner  of  contempt,  so  it  proved  in  this  case.  Quar- 
rels soon  began  and  the  passengers  now  took  the  opposite 
course  of  attempting  to  issue  orders  to  the  sailors  and 
treating  them  as  servants.  This  exasperated  the  crew 
and  they  swore  that  no  earthly  power  should  ever  induce 
them  to  render  the  least  assistance  to  the  passengers. 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  93 

Large  sums  of  money  were  offered  the  sailors  to  forage 
for  provisions,  but  I  am  firmly  persuaded  that  the  man 
who  accepted  such  an  offer  would  have  been  murdered  by 
his  comrades.  Mrs.  Lock,  for  instance,  incensed  a  sea- 
man by  telling  him, — "You  common  sailor,  why  you  no 
wait  on  lady?  You  ought  to  wait  on  officer's  lady !  You 
refuse  me,  captain  will  flog  you  plenty." 

Inacessible  Island  was  properly  named,  and  one 
week  after  another  passed  without  the  sight  of  a 
sail  or  any  tangible  hope  of  rescue.  Flimsy  shelters 
were  contrived,  and  nobody  died  of  cold  or  hunger, 
but  they  were  a  gaunt,  unkempt  company,  with 
much  illness  among  them.  Arrayed  in  their  make- 
shift garments  of  crimson  broadcloth,  the  camp  was 
more  like  a  travesty  than  a  tragedy.  No  hardship 
could  dull  the  militant  spirits  of  Mrs.  Commodore 
Lock  and  that  young  and  handsome  virago,  Mrs. 
Lieutenant  Painter.  During  one  of  their  clashes, 
which  was  about  to  come  to  blows,  the  little  lieu- 
tenant was  trying  to  drag  his  strapping  spouse  into 
their  tent  while  several  passengers  laid  hold  of  the 
ponderous  Mrs.  Lock.  Poor  Captain  Greig  was 
heard  to  murmur: 

"Thank  God  we  have  almost  no  respectable  ladies 
with  us  to  witness  such  scenes  as  these!" 

Mrs.  Lock  had  two  small  children  with  her,  and 
it  pleased  the  fancy  of  Mrs.  Painter  to  say  that,  in 
her  opinion,  the  paternity  of  the  offspring  would 


94     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

have  been  better  established  if  the  commodore  had 
offered  marriage  a  few  years  earlier.  Mrs.  Painter 
put  it  even  more  forcefully  than  this.  At  the 
deadly  insult  Mrs.  Lock  broke  out  in  impassioned 
accents : 

"What  you  think?  That  vile  hussy  of  a  Painter 
woman,  she  say  me  no  Commodore  Lock's  wife.  Me  lose 
my — what  you  call  it — wedding  'tifcate  on  board  ship,  so 
me  no  have  proof  now — but  when  we  come  to  Bombay,  my 
commodore  he  kicks  dirty  little  Painter  out  of  the  service, 
and  me  get  ten  thousand  rupees  of  defamation  damage. 
That  Painter  woman's  father  am  a  common,  dirty  boat- 
man!" 

At  this  Mrs.  Painter,  with  lofty  disdain,  let  fall 
the  remark:  "Behold  the  she-devil  and  her  two 
little  imps!" 

The  sailors  felt  so  little  respect  for  the  commo- 
dore's wife  that  one  of  them  coarsely  observed, 
within  her  hearing: 

"If  we  run  short  of  them  penguins'  eggs,  Bill, 
and  there  ain't  nothin'  else  to  eat,  we  '11  pop  the 
old  girl's  young  'uns  into  the  pot  for  a  bit  of  broth." 

This  was  reported  to  Captain  Greig  by  the  ex- 
plosive Mrs.  Lock,  who  declared  that  the  sailors  had 
called  her  names  much  stronger  than  "old  girl." 
The  chivalrous  commander  was  resolved  that  no 
man  of  his  crew  should  insult  a  woman  and  gc  un- 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  95 

punished,  wherefore  he  mustered  the  seamen  loyal 
to  him,  and  they  maintained  order  while  the  boat- 
swain gave  the  chief  offender  fifty  lashes  on  the 
bare  back  with  a  rope's-end.  The  dreary  exile  was 
further  enlivened  by  the  discovery  that  Lieutenant 
Painter's  tent  had  been  robbed  of  jewelry  and  other 
valuables.  A  formal  trial  was  held,  with  young 
Alexander  Greig  as  judge  and  a  water-cask  as  the 
official  bench.  A  sailor  named  Joseph  Fowler  was 
accused  of  the  theft,  and  Mrs.  Lock  surged  into  the 
proceedings  by  announcing  that,  in  her  opinion,  the 
relations  of  Mrs.  Painter  and  this  common  sailor- 
man  had  been  a  public  scandal. 

"Very  ladylike  of  you,  I'm  sure,  Mrs.  Lock," 
cried  Mrs.  Painter,  "but  what  could  a  person  ex- 
pect?" 

Such  episodes  as  these  were  trivial  when  com- 
pared with  the  tragic  problem  of  survival  and  es- 
cape from  Inaccessible  Island.  Exploring  parties 
had  climbed  the  lofty  peak,  and  in  clear  weather 
were  able  to  discern  the  snow-clad  summit  of  the 
larger  island  of  Tristan,  only  fifteen  miles  distant, 
which  was  known  to  be  inhabited.  It  might  have 
been  a  thousand  miles  away,  however,  for  the  lack 
of  tools  and  material  had  discouraged  any  efforts 
to  build  a  boat.  In  a  mood  of  despair  a  flagstaff 
was  set  up  on  the  southwestern  promontory,  which 


96     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

faced  the  open  ocean,  and  a  bottle  tied  to  it  which 
contained  this  message : 

On  the  N.  W.  side  of  this  island  are  the  remaining 
part  of  the  crew  and  passengers  of  the  Blenden  Hall, 
wrecked  23rd  July,  1821.  Should  this  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  humane,  we  trust,  by  the  assistance  of  God,  they 
will  do  all  in  their  power  to  relieve  us,  and  the  prayers  of 
many  unfortunate  sufferers  will  always  be  for  them. 
Signed, 

ALEXANDER  GRIEG,  Commander. 

This  was  a  month  after  the  shipwreck.  Another 
month  passed,  and  the  ship's  cook,  Joseph  Nibbs,  a 
colored  man,  had  begun  to  build  a  clumsy  little 
cockle-shell  which  he  called  a  punt.  For  tools  he 
managed  to  find  a  hand-saw,  a  chisel,  a  bolt  for  a 
hammer,  and  a  heavy  iron  hinge  ground  sharp  on 
the  rocks  for  an  ax.  It  seems  extraordinary  that 
this  enterprise  should  have  been  left  to  a  sea-cook, 
what  with  the  carpenter  and  all  the  officers  who 
should  have  taken  the  initiative.  At  any  rate,  this 
handy  Joseph  Nibbs  pegged  his  boat  together  and 
went  fishing  in  it.  This  appears  to  have  shamed 
the  others  into  activity,  and  the  carpenter  set  about 
building  a  larger  boat.  It  was  the  heroic  cook, 
however,  who  decided  to  risk  the  voyage  to  Tristan 
in  his  little  floating  coffin,  and  his  farewell  speech 
was  reported  as  follows: 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  97 

"I  little  thought,  Captain  Greig,  ever  to  see  this 
day ;  but  I  will  bring  relief  to  you  and  young  Mr. 
Alexander,  if  I  perish  in  the  attempt.  If  I  never 
see  you  again,  sir,  God  bless  you  for  your  kindness 
to  me  during  the  years  we  have  been  shipmates." 

In  the  punt  with  the  cook  went  five  volunteers, 
three  able  seamen,  the  gunner,  and  the  sailmaker, 
but  not  one  of  the  ship's  officers.  These  six  fine 
fellows  were  ready  to  risk  their  lives  for  others,  but 
the  quarter-deck  failed  to  share  in  the  splendid  ac- 
tion. The  punt  hoisted  sail,  the  cook  and  his  com- 
rades shouted  three  cheers,  and  they  stood  out  from 
the  lee  of  the  island  to  face  a  heavy  sea.  This  was 
the  last  ever  seen  of  them.  They  must  have  per- 
ished soon  after. 

The  castaways  waited  week  after  week,  desper- 
ately hungry  and  wholly  discouraged.  Meanwhile 
the  carpenter  had  finished  his  boat,  but  delayed  his 
voyage  until  certain  of  fine  weather,  and  wasted 
much  time  in  skirting  the  island  in  the  hope  of  find- 
ing some  trace  of  the  cook.  It  was  late  in  October, 
almost  three  months  after  the  loss  of  the  Blenden 
Hall,  before  the  carpenter  attempted  to  reach  Tris- 
tan. Nine  men  were  with  him,  five  able  seamen, 
the  boatswain,  the  steward,  a  boatswain's  mate,  and 
a  carpenter's  mate.  Again  the  list  was  conspicuous 
for  the  absence  of  an  officer. 


98     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

On  the  following  day  two  boats  were  seen  ap- 
proaching Inaccessible  Island.  They  were  stanch 
whale-boats,  in  one  of  which  was  the  ruler  of  Tristan 
da  Cunha,  Corporal  William  Glass,  late  of  the 
Royal  Artillery.  He  brought  provisions  and  a 
warm  welcome  to  his  kingdom.  It  was  found  that 
more  than  one  trip  would  be  necessary  to  transport 
the  castaways  to  Tristan.  In  the  first  boat-load 
were  Mrs.  Lock  and  Mrs.  Painter,  whose  animosi- 
ties were  lulled  by  the  blessed  fact  of  rescue.  It 
was  an  armistice  during  which  they  wept  on  each 
other's  necks  and  mingled  their  prayers  of  thanks- 
giving while  the  crew  of  the  Blenden  Hall  sang 
"God  Save  the  King." 

All  hands  were  safely  landed  at  Tristan  where 
they  found  a  neat  hamlet  of  stone  cottages  thatched 
with  straw,  and  green  fields  of  grain  and  potatoes. 
Mrs.  Glass  was  the  only  woman  of  the  colony  in 
which  there  were  five  Englishmen  and  two  Ameri- 
can sailors.  To  provide  for  eighty  shipwrecked 
people  severely  taxed  their  resources  but  the  spirit 
of  hospitality  was  most  cordially  displayed.  The 
captain  and  the  passengers  signed  an  agreement 
to  pay  Governor  Glass  at  the  rate  of  two  shillings 
and  sixpence  per  day  for  board  and  lodging,  which 
was  no  more  than  fair,  but  nothing  was  said  about 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  99 

the  sailors.  They  were  expected  to  pay  for  their 
keep  by  working  as  farm-hands.  This  rubbed  the 
long-suffering  tars  the  wrong  way,  and  as  the  diary 
explains  it: 

"The  passengers  walking  about  at  their  ease  was  a 
sight  to  which  Jack  could  not  long  submit;  at  last  they 
all  struck,  declaring  that  they  would  not  work  unless  their 
'mortal  enemies'  were  compelled  to  do  the  same.  Upon 
this,  the  captain  begged  Governor  Glass  to  be  firm  with 
them  and  on  no  account  to  serve  out  any  provisions  un- 
less they  returned  to  their  duty.  Consequently  several 
meetings,  with  a  great  deal  of  ill  feeling  took  place  upon 
the  subject,  and  when  prayers  were  read  the  following 
Sunday  at  Government  House,  every  sailor  absented  him- 
self." 

Food  was  refused  the  striking  seamen  until  they 
threatened  to  break  into  the  potato  sheds  and  then 
burn  the  settlement.  The  boatswain  and  his  lash 
tamed  the  mutiny  after  Joseph  Fowler  had  been 
tied  up  and  his  back  cut  to  ribbons  with  nine  dozen 
blows  of  the  rope's-end.  After  this  the  seamen 
marched  off  to  another  part  of  the  island  and  fed 
themselves  by  fishing  and  hunting  wild  goats  and 
pigs.  To  their  simple  minds  there  was  no  good 
reason  why  they  should  sweat  at  building  stone 
walls  and  digging  potatoes  while  Captain  Miles 
and  the  six  assistant  surgeons  of  the  Honorable 


100     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

East  India  Company,  Major  Reid  of  the  Poonah 
Auxiliary  Forces,  and  Quartermaster  Hormby  of 
his  Majesty's  foot  were  strolling  about  in  idleness. 

For  lack  of  something  better  to  do,  the  pas- 
sengers began  to  find  fault  with  the  food  supplied 
by  the  worthy  Governor  Glass,  and  this  caused 
much  difficulty  and  several  formal  conferences  and 
protests.  He  promised  to  do  better,  and  honestly 
tried  to,  bearing  the  situation  with  unfailing  good 
humor  and  courtesy.  If  the  rations  were  scrimped, 
it  was  no  doubt  because  he  feared  he  might  be  eaten 
out  of  house  and  home  and  left  without  reserve 
supplies. 

On  New  Year's  day  there  was  a  notable  celebra- 
tion, when  the  four  children  of  the  Glass  family 
were  formally  christened  by  Dr.  Hatch  of  the 
Blenden  Hall,  who  had  taken  holy  orders  in  his 
youth.  Governor  Glass  wore  his  scarlet  uniform 
of  the  Royal  Artillery,  "Mrs.  Lock  stuck  so  many 
white  feathers  in  her  hair  that  it  resembled  a  cauli- 
flower, while  Mrs.  Painter  sported  a  white  turban 
of  such  ample  dimensions  that  the  Grand  Sultan 
himself  might  have  envied  her."  Bonfires  blazed, 
flags  flew  from  every  roof,  and  the  islanders  were 
dressed  in  their  best. 

On  January  9  the  English  merchant  ship 
Nerinae  hove  to  off  Tristan  da  Cunha  to  fill  her 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  101 

water-casks.  She  was  bound  from  Buenos  Aires 
to  Table  Bay  with  a  hold  filled  with  live  mules. 
Uncomfortable  shipmates  these,  but  the  people  of 
the  Blenden  Hall  were  not  in  a  captious  mood. 
They  were  taken  on  board,  and  sailed  away  from 
Governor  Glass  after  spending  three  months  with 
him,  and  it  is  to  be  fancied  that  he  felt  no  profound 
regrets. 

A  bit  of  romance  touched  the  parting  scenes. 
The  night  before  the  Nerinae  sailed  from  Tristan, 
the  pretty  maid  servant  of  Mrs.  Lock  slipped 
ashore  in  a  boat,  with  what  few  belongings  she  had, 
and  joined  her  sailor  sweetheart,  Stephen  White, 
who  had  decided  to  remain  behind  on  the  island. 
This  Peggy  was  a  Portuguese  half-caste  from 
Madras  who  is  referred  to  in  the  diary  as  a  "female 
attendant."  Seaman  White  is  called  a  worthless 
fellow,  but  this  may  be  taken  for  what  it  is  worth. 
The  important  fact  is  that  he  had  found  a  sweet- 
heart during  the  weary  exile  on  Inaccessible  Is- 
land and  that  they  were  resolved  to  stay  together 
and  let  the  rest  of  the  world  go  hang.  Governor 
Glass  was  quite  competent  to  unite  them  in  the 
bonds  of  a  marriage  that  was  proper  in  the  sight  of 
God. 

There  is  one  final  glimpse  of  Mrs.  Lock  and  Mrs. 
Painter  shortly  before  the  good  ship  Nerinae,  with 


102     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

her  freightage  of  mules  and  castaways,  anchored  in 
Table  Bay. 

The  two  ladies  having  for  a  considerable  time  been 
very  quiet,  Captain  Greig  thought  he  would  make  an- 
other trial  at  reconciliation,  and  begged  Mrs.  Lock  to 
shake  hands  with  Mrs.  Painter  which  the  latter  was  will- 
ing to  do,  but  the  commodore's  wife  declared,  "Me  do 
anything  Captain  like,  but  me  will  bring  action  for  defa- 
mation against  little  Painter  and  his  damn  wife,  please 
God  me  ever  get  back  to  Bombay." 

Mrs.  Lock  used  to  say  that  she  fully  expected  to  find 
her  dear  commodore  dead  with  grief.  Mrs.  Painter  re- 
peatedly retorted  that  it  was  far  more  likely  she  would 
find  him  with  another  wife,  but  she  might  make  up  her 
mind  it  would  not  be  a  black  one. 

Thus  concludes  the  story  of  the  Blenden  Hall, 
East  Indiaman,  but  it  is  so  interwoven  with  the 
fortunes  of  Tristan  da  Cunha  and  its  colonists  that 
further  tidings  of  them  may  prove  interesting.  In 
1824,  four  years  after  the  wreck  of  the  East  In- 
diaman, an  author  and  artist  of  New  Zealand, 
Augustus  Earle,  was  accidentally  marooned  at 
Tristan,  and  stayed  six  months  as  the  guest  of  Gov- 
ernor Glass  before  another  ship  touched  there.  He 
had  sailed  from  Rio  for  Cape  Town  in  a  sloop,  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester,  which  passed  so  close  to  the 
island  in  calm  weather  that  the  thrifty  skipper  con- 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  103 

eluded  to  land  and  buy  a  few  tons  of  potatoes  for 
the  Cape  market. 

The  artistic  passenger  went  ashore  to  stroll  about 
with  dog  and  gun  while  the  sailors  were  loading 
potatoes  into  the  boat.  A  sudden  storm  swept  the 
sea,  and  the  boat  was  caught  offshore,  but  managed 
to  reach  the  sloop,  which  was  driven  far  from  the 
island  and  gave  up  trying  to  beat  back  to  it.  The 
skipper  was  a  practical  man  and  it  was  foolish  to 
delay  the  voyage  for  such  a  useless  creature  as  an 
author  and  artist.  Mr.  Augustus  Earle  was  com- 
pelled to  make  the  best  of  the  awkward  situation, 
and  he  seems  to  have  enjoyed  his  protracted  visit  of 
half  a  year. 

The  village  then  consisted  of  five  or  six  thatched 
cottages  "which  had  an  air  of  comfort,  cleanliness, 
and  plenty  truly  English."  The  young  sailor 
Stephen  White,  whom  the  Blenden  Hall  had  left 
behind  with  his  precious  Peggy,  was  still  happy  in 
his  bargain,  and  their  babies  were  playing  with  the 
lusty  little  flock  of  the  Glass  family.  The  island 
was  no  longer  a  hermit's  retreat.  The  marooned 
artist  noted  that  "children  there  were  in  abundance, 
and  just  one  year  older  than  another."  Small 
wonder  that  he  saw  little  of  the  two  women,  who 
were  fully  occupied  with  their  domestic  duties. 


104     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  worthy  Governor  William  Glass  had  a  curi- 
ous yarn  to  tell  of  that  first  ruler  of  the  island, 
Jonathan  Lambert  of  Salem,  who  had  published 
his  grandiose  proclamations  and  whose  ambitious 
dreams  were  so  soon  eclipsed.  The  accepted  ac- 
count is  that  he  was  drowned  while  out  in  his  boat, 
but  the  British  garrison  had  found  on  the  island  a 
man  who  said  he  had  been  there  with  Lambert  and 
that  he  suspected  another  companion  of  the  first 
king  of  Tristan  da  Cunha  of  having  made  away 
with  him  in  order  to  secure  his  hoard  of  gold. 
Afraid  of  discovery,  the  regicide  had  fled  the  island, 
leaving  the  treasure  behind  him. 

The  ingenious  inventor  of  this  narrative  had  pro- 
fessed to  know  where  the  treasure  was  buried, 

and  that  he  would  some  day  reveal  it  to  the  man  of  the 
garrison  who  pleased  him  most,  thus  insuring  good  treat- 
ment from  the  men,  each  hoping  to  be  favored.  But  one 
day  after  drinking  immoderately  of  liquor  he  was  taken 
suddenly  ill  and  expired  before  he  could  explain  to  his 
comrades  where  his  treasure  was  concealed. 

At  any  rate,  the  story  sufficed  to  supply  the  im- 
aginative vagabond  with  free  rum  and  tobacco, 
which,  no  doubt,  was  the  end  in  view. 

Augustus  Earle  hunted  the  wild  goats,  which 
had  multiplied  on  the  mountain-slopes,  and  he  has 
left  us  this  pleasing  picture  of  the  simple  and 


THE  BLENDEN  HALL  105 

righteous  existence  led  by  these  dwellers  on  remote 
Tristan  da  Cunha: 

Governor  Glass  informed  me  that  the  last  time  they 
had  ascended  the  mountain  after  goats,  one  of  the  party 
got  too  close  to  the  precipice  and  fell  down  several  hun- 
dred feet.  They  found  the  corpse  next  day  in  a  miser- 
ably mangled  state.  They  interred  it  in  the  garden 
near  their  settlement  and  placed  at  the  head  of  the  grave 
a  board  with  his  name  and  age,  together  with  an  account 
of  the  accident  which  caused  his  death,  and  the  remark 
that  it  happened  on  a  Sunday,  a  dreadful  warning  to 
Sabbath-breakers.  The  people  all  say  they  will  never- 
more ascend  the  mountain  on  that  sacred  day.  Indeed, 
from  all  I  have  seen  of  them,  they  pay  every  respect  to 
the  duties  of  religion  that  lies  in  their  power. 

My  clothes  beginning  to  wear  out,  my  kind  host,  who 
was  an  excellent  tailor,  made  me  a  pair  of  trousers  con- 
sisting of  sail  cloth  and  the  rear  of  dried  goat's  skin,  the 
hair  outside,  which  they  all  assured  me  would  be  very 
convenient  in  sliding  down  the  mountains.  I  laughed 
heartily  when  I  first  sported  this  Robinson  Crusoe  habili- 
ment. "Never  mind  how  you  look,  sir,"  said  my  kind 
host,  "His  Majesty  himself,  God  bless  him,  if  he  had  been 
left  here  as  you  were,  could  look  no  better." 

Governor  William  Glass  ruled  over  the  island  for 
thirty-five  years,  until  his  death  in  1853.  By  that 
time  the  population  had  increased  to  a  hundred 
souls,  and  a  flourishing  trade  was  carried  on  in  pro- 
visioning the  fleet  of  American  whalers  out  of  New 
Bedford  and  Nantucket  which  cruised  in  those 


106     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

waters.  A  few  years  later,  twenty-five  of  the 
younger  men  and  women  emigrated  to  the  United 
States,  stirred  by  a  natural  ambition  to  see  more  of 
the  world.  At  the  death  of  Governor  Glass,  an 
old  man-of-war's-man,  William  Cotton,  who  had 
been  for  three  years  one  of  Napoleon's  guards  at 
Sfe.  Helena,  became  the  head  of  the  community. 

To-day  the  settlement  consists  of  a  hundred  peo- 
ple or  so,  most  of  them  of  the  old  British  strain,  and 
many  of  them  descended  from  the  families  of  Cor- 
poral William  Glass  of  the  Royal  Artillery  and  the 
young  seaman  Stephen  White  and  his  devoted 
Peggy  who  were  wrecked  in  the  Blenden  Hall  East 
Indiaman,  a  century  ago.  They  manage  their  own 
affairs  without  any  written  laws,  and  are  described 
by  recent  visitors  as  religious,  hospitable  to  stran- 
gers, industrious,  healthy,  and  long-lived. 

The  British  Government  has  kept  a  paternal  eye 
on  them,  and  from  time  to  time  a  minister  of  the 
Church  of  England  has  served  in  the  stone  chapel 
and  the  trim  little  school-house.  Their  worldly 
wealth  is  in  cattle,  sheep,  apple  and  peach  orchards, 
and  they  are  unvexed  by  politics,  the  League  of  Na- 
tions, or  the  social  unrest.  Enviable  people  of 
Tristan  da  Cunha!  And  peace  to  the  memories  of 
old  William  Glass  and  Jonathan  Lambert,  and  the 
faithful  sweethearts  of  the  stately  old  Blenden 
Hall! 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE 

LONG  before  the  art  of  Joseph  Conrad  cre- 
ated Lord  Jim  to  follow  the  star  of  his 
romantic  destiny  to  the  somber,  misty  coast  of 
Patusan,  an  American  sailor  lived  and  dared  amaz- 
ingly among  the  sullen  people  of  those  same  myste- 
rious islands  of  the  Far  East.  He  was  of  the  race 
of  mariners  whose  ships  were  first  to  display  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  in  those  far-distant  waters  and  to 
challenge  the  powerful  monopolies  of  the  British 
and  Dutch  East  India  companies.  Only  seven 
years  earlier,  in  fact,  the  American  ship  Empress 
of  China  had  ventured  on  the  pioneering  voyage  to 
Canton.  The  seas  still  swarmed  with  pirates  and 
every  merchantman  carried  a  heavy  battery  of  guns 
and  a  crew  which  knew  to  use  them.  Amid  such 
conditions  were  trained  the  sailors  who  were  to  man 
the  Constitution  and  the  other  matchless  frigates  of 
1812. 

The  American  ship  Enterprise  sailed  from  Ba- 
tavia  for  Manila  on  the  twentieth  of  January,  1793, 
and  laid  a  course  to  pass  through  the  Straits  of 

107 


108     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Macassar.  Head  winds  and  currents  kept  her 
beating  to  and  fro  in  this  torrid  passage  for  six 
weeks  on  end,  and  the  grumbling  crew  began  to 
wonder  if  they  had  signed  in  another  Flying  Dutch- 
man.  Food  was  running  short,  for  this  protracted 
voyage  had  not  been  expected,  and  while  the  Enter- 
prise  drifted  becalmed  on  the  greasy  tide,  another 
ship  was  sighted  about  five  miles  distant. 

Captain  Hubbard  ordered  the  chief  mate,  David 
Woodard,  to  take  a  boat  and  five  seamen  and  row 
off  to  this  other  vessel  and  try  to  buy  some  stores. 
The  men  were  William  Gideon,  John  Cole,  Archi- 
bald Miller,  Robert  Gilbert,  and  George  Williams. 
Expecting  to  be  gone  only  a  few  hours,  they  took  no 
food  or  water,  and  all  they  carried  with  them  was  an 
ax,  a  boat-hook,  two  pocket-knives,  a  disabled 
musket,  and  forty  dollars. 

It  was  sunset  when  they  pulled  alongside  the 
other  ship,  which  was  China  bound  and  had  no  pro- 
visions to  spare.  A  strong  squall  and  heavy  rains 
prevented  them  from  returning  to  the  Enterprise 
that  night,  and  they  stayed  where  they  were  until 
next  morning.  Then  the  wind  shifted  and  blew 
fresh  from  the  southward  to  sweep  the  Enterprise 
on  her  course,  and  she  had  already  vanished  hull 
down  and  under.  Stout-hearted  David  Woodard 
guessed  he  could  find  her  again,  confident  that  Cap- 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     109 

tain  Hubbard  would  not  desert  him,  and  his  men 
cheerfully  tumbled  into  the  boat  after  him. 

The  skipper  of  the  China  ship,  a  half-caste  with  a 
crew  of  Lascars,  was  a  surly  customer  who  seemed 
anxious  to  be  rid  of  his  visitors.  As  a  friend  in  need 
he  was  a  glaring  failure.  Protesting  that  he  had  no 
fresh  water  to  spare,  all  that  their  money  could  buy 
of  him  was  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  twelve  musket- 
cartridges.  The  Yankee  sailors  tugged  at  the  oars 
all  day  long,  but  caught  never  a  glimpse  of  the 
missing  Enterprise.  At  nightfall  they  landed  on 
an  island  and  found  water  fit  to  drink,  but  nothing 
to  eat.  A  large  fire  was  built  on  the  beach  in  the 
hope  of  attracting  the  attention  of  their  ship,  but 
there  was  no  responsive  signal. 

It  was  the  land  of  Conrad's  magic  fancies,  where 
"the  swampy  plains  open  out  at  the  mouth  of  rivers, 
with  a  view  of  blue  peaks  beyond  the  vast  forests. 
In  the  offing  a  chain  of  islands,  dark,  crumbling 
shapes,  stand  out  in  the  everlasting  sunlit  haze  like 
the  remnants  of  a  wall  broached  by  the  sea." 

The  chief  mate  and  his  five  hardy  seamen  tight- 
ened their  leather  belts  another  hole  and  shoved  off 
again  in  the  small  open  boat.  For  six  days  they 
sailed  the  Straits,  blown  along  by  one  rain  squall 
after  another,  until  they  were  within  sight  of  the 
coast  of  Celebes.  Hunger  and  thirst  then  com- 


110     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

pelled  them  to  seek  the  land  and  risk  death  at  the 
hands  of  the  savage  Malays.  It  was  their  hope  to 
proceed  by  sea  to  Macassar,  which  they  reckoned 
lay  about  three  degrees  to  the  southward. 

They  must  have  had  a  little  water  during  these 
six  days,  but  David  Woodard's  statement  that  the 
rations  were  a  few  cocoanuts  is  entirely  credible. 
Many  a  boat-load  of  castaways  has  died  or  gone 
mad  after  privations  no  more  severe,  while  on  the 
other  hand  a  crew  of  toughened  seamen,  in  the 
prime  of  their  youth,  is  exceedingly  hard  to  kill. 

Toward  a  cove  on  this  unknown,  hostile  shore  of 
Celebes  the  gaunt  sailors  wearily  steered  their  boat 
and  beached  it  in  the  languid  ripple  of  surf.  They 
had  no  sooner  crawled  ashore  than  two  proas 
skimmed  in  from  seaward,  dropping  anchor  and 
making  ready  to  send  off  a  canoe  filled  with  armed 
Malays.  Woodard  shouted  to  his  men,  and  they 
pushed  the  boat  out  and  scrambled  into  it  before 
they  were  discovered.  Skirting  a  bight  of  the  shore, 
they  Headed  for  the  open  sea  and  dodged  away  from 
the  proas. 

Four  miles  beyond,  after  they  had  rounded  a 
green  point  of  land,  a  feathery  cocoanut-grove  ran 
to  the  water's-edge,  and  they  could  go  no  farther. 
The  mate  left  two  men  to  guard  the  boat,  and  the 
three  others  went  with  him ;  but  they  were  too  weak 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     111 

to  climb  the  trees,  and  had  to  hack  away  at  the 
trunks  with  an  ax.  Two  of  them  were  mere  lads 
who  ma.de  such  bungling  work  of  it  that  Woodard 
sent  for  a  couple  of  the  stronger  men  in  the  boat, 
leaving  Archibald  Miller  alone  with  it.  They  were 
busy  gathering  cocoanuts  to  carry  to  sea  with  them 
when  poor  Millar  was  heard  to  "scream  aloud  in  the 
bitterest  manner."  The  mate  ran  to  the  beach  and 
saw  his  precious  boat  filled  with  Malays,  who  were 
just  shoving  off  in  it.  On  the  sand  lay  Miller, 
who  had  been  hacked  to  death  with  creeses. 

David  Woodard  and  four  sailors  were  therefore 
marooned  with  no  resources  whatever,  but  they 
talked  it  over  and  agreed  to  try  to  get  to  Macassar 
by  land.  Leaving  the  swampy  coast,  they  slowly 
toiled  toward  the  blue  mountains  and,  afraid  of 
discovery,  concluded  to  hide  themselves  in  the 
jungle  until  night.  Then  with  a  star  for  their  guide 
they  bore  south,  but  progress  was  almost  impossible, 
and  they  lost  their  bearings  in  the  dense  growth. 
After  blundering  about  in  this  manner  for  several 
nights,  they  turned  toward  the  sea  again  in  the  hope 
of  finding  some  kind  of  native  boat.  They  had  ex- 
isted for  thirteen  days  since  losing  their  ship,  and  it 
is  evident  that  the  indomitable  spirit  of  the  mate 
kept  the  other  men  going. 

"Woodard  was  himself  stout  in  person,"  explains 


112     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  narrative,  "and  much  accustomed  to  fatigue  and 
exercise,  whence  he  felt  less  exhausted,  particularly 
from  keeping  up  his  spirits  and  having  his  mind  con- 
stantly engaged." 

At  length  they  came  to  a  deep  bay  between  the 
mountains,  and  lay  hidden  all  day  in  a  leafy  ambush 
while  they  watched  the  Malay  fishermen  in  their 
canoes.  Three  of  the  sailors  were  taken  desper- 
ately ill  after  eating  some  yellow  berries  and 
thought  they  were  about  to  die ;  but  the  mate  could 
not  tolerate  this  kind  of  behavior,  "although  his 
comrades  now  resembled  corpses  more  than  living 
men."  He  used  rough  language,  damned  them  as 
worthless  swabs  if  a  stomach-ache  was  to  make  them 
lie  down  and  quit,  and  then  went  in  search  of  water 
for  them  until  he  found  some  in  a  hollow  tree.  But 
his  strength  and  courage  could  haul  them  along  no 
farther  and  reluctantly  he  admitted  that  they  would 
have  to  surrender  themselves  to  the  natives. 

They  went  down  to  the  beach  of  the  bay,  wonder- 
ing what  their  fate  might  be,  John  Cole,  who  was 
a  stripling  lad  of  seventeen,  blubbering  that  he 
would  sooner  die  in  the  woods  than  be  killed  by  the 
Malays.  The  canoes  had  gone  away,  but  three 
brown-skinned  girls  were  fishing  in  a  brook,  and 
they  fled  when  they  saw  the  tattered  castaways. 
Presently  a  group  of  men  came  down  a  forest  path, 


WOODARD  RAISED  HIS  EMPTY  HAXDS  TO  ASK  FOR  PEACE  AND  MERCY 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     113 

and  Woodard  walked  forward  to  meet  them,  raising 
his  empty  hands  to  ask  for  peace  and  mercy. 

The  Malays  stood  silent  for  a  long  time,  and  then 
the  chief  advanced  to  lay  down  his  creese  and  cere- 
moniously accept  the  stranger  as  captives.  They 
were  given  food  and  conducted  to  a  little  town  of 
bamboo  huts,  there  to  await  the  pleasure  of  the  rajah 
in  what  Woodard  called  the  judgment  hall,  while  all 
the  villagers  gathered  about  them. 

Soon  the  rajah  strode  in,  tall  and  straight  and 
warlike,  a  long,  naked  creese  in  his  hand.  These 
were  the  first  white  men  that  had  ever  been  seen  in 
his  wild  domain.  He  gazed  admiringly  at  the  stal- 
wart chief  mate,  who  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes, 
while  the  people  murmured  approval  of  the  captive's 
bearing,  for  "he  was  six  feet  and  an  inch  high,  strong 
in  proportion,  and  the  largest-boned  person  they 
had  ever  beheld." 

These  were  two  bold,  upstanding  men  who  stood 
face  to  face  in  the  judgment  hall,  and  the  rajah, 
after  consultation  with  his  chiefs,  gave  each  of  the 
five  American  sailors  a  betel-nut  to  chew  as  a  token 
of  his  gracious  inclination  to  spare  their  lives. 

For  twenty  days  they  were  closely  held  as  prison- 
ers in  this  forest  settlement,  during  which  time  two 
old  men  arrived  from  another  town  and  displayed 
a  lively  interest  in  the  situation.  They  toddled  off 


114     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

into  the  jungle,  but  came  again  with  a  Mahome- 
dan  priest  called  Tuan  Hadjee,  who  was  a  bit  of  a 
linguist  in  that  he  spoke  a  few  words  of  English, 
some  Portuguese,  and  a  smattering  of  the  Moorish 
tongue.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  having  jour- 
neyed to  Bombay  and  Bengal  on  his  way  to  Mecca, 
and  displayed  a  letter  from  the  British  governor  of 
Balambangan,  on  the  island  of  Borneo,  to  show  that 
he  was  a  good  and  trustworthy  person  and  was  em- 
powered to  assist  all  distressed  Englishmen. 

This  Tuan  Hadjee  lived  up  to  his  credentials, 
for  he  offered  the  rajah  a  hundred  dollars  in  gold- 
dust  as  ransom  for  the  five  seamen,  which  price  was 
haughtily  refused,  and  the  kindly  priest  went  away 
to  see  what  else  could  be  done  about  it.  Nothing 
more  was  seen  of  this  amiable  pilgrim,  and  the 
Americans  were  set  to  work  in  the  forest  to  clear  the 
fields  or  to  gather  sago.  After  two  months  they 
were  left  unguarded  by  day,  but  shut  up  in  a  house 
at  night.  Week  after  week  dragged  by  in  this 
wearisome  drudgery,  but  they  kept  alive,  and  their 
spirit  was  unbroken,  although  the  food  was  poor 
and  scanty  and  the  tropical  heat  scorched  the  very 
souls  out  of  them. 

At  the  end  of  half  a  year  of  this  enslavement  an- 
other rajah  who  seems  to  have  been  a  kind  of  over- 
lord of  the  region  summoned  them  into  his  presence 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     115 

at  a  town  on  the  sea-coast.  There  Woodard  almost 
died  of  fever,  but  a  woman  befriended  him  and 
greatly  helped  to  save  his  life.  The  episode  sug- 
gests a  romance,  and  this  viking  of  a  sailor  who 
drifted  in  so  strangely  from  an  unknown  world  was 
a  man  to  win  the  love  of  women.  In  this  respect, 
however,  he  was  discreetly  silent  when  it  came  to 
relating  the  story  of  his  wanderings  in  Celebes,  and 
the  interest  which  he  inspired  is  sedately  described 
as  follows: 

At  her  first  visit  she  looked  at  him  some  time  in  silence, 
then  went  to  the  bazaar  and  bought  some  tobacco  and 
bananas  which  she  presented  to  him,  as  also  a  piece  of 
money.  Seeing  him  scantily  clothed,  she  asked  whether 
he  had  no  more  clothing  and  whether  he  would  have  some 
tea.  Then  carrying  one  of  the  other  sick  men  home  with 
her,  she  gave  him  tea  and  a  pot  to  boil  it  in.  She  like- 
wise sent  rice  and  some  garments,  with  a  pillow  and  two 
mats.  This  good  woman  was  of  royal  blood  and  married 
to  a  Malay  merchant.  These  were  not  her  only  gifts,  for 
she  proved  a  kind  friend  to  the  seamen  while  they  were  at 
that  place. 

Another  house  being  provided  for  the  five  men,  Wood- 
ard, unable  to  walk,  was  carried  thither  accompanied 
by  a  great  concourse  of  young  females  who  immediately  on 
his  arrival  kindled  a  fire  and  began  to  boil  rice.  His  fever 
still  continued  very  severe  and  on  the  morning  of  the 
fourth  day  of  his  residence  an  old  woman  appeared  with 
a  handful  of  boughs,  announcing  that  she  was  come  to 
cure  him  and  that  directly.  In  the  course  of  a  few  min- 


116     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

utes  four  or  five  more  old  women  were  seen  along  with  her, 
according  to  the  custom  of  the  country  in  curing  the  sick. 
They  spent  the  day  in  brushing  him  with  the  boughs  of 
the  trees  and  used  curious  incantations.  The  ceremony 
was  repeated  in  the  evening  and  he  was  directed  to  go 
and  bathe  in  the  river.  Although  he  put  little  faith  in  the 
proceedings,  the  fever  abated  and  he  speedily  began  to 
recover. 

From  a  Dutch  fort  seventy  miles  away  the  com- 
mandant came  to  see  Woodard  and  invited  him  to 
return  with  him,  offering  to  buy  him  out  of  slavery. 
The  chief  mate  refused,  because  he  was  afraid  of 
being  compelled  to  join  the  Dutch  military  service. 
He  was  shrewd  enough  to  perceive  that  this  was 
what  the  commandant  had  in  mind,  and  he  therefore 
begged  to  be  sent  to  Macassar,  whence  he  could 
make  his  way  to  Batavia.  At  this  the  commandant 
lost  interest  in  the  castaways  and  made  no  more  at- 
tempt to  help  them. 

Soon  after  this  they  were  carried  back  to  the  vil- 
lage of  their  first  imprisonment,  but  Woodard  had 
seen  blue  water  again  and  he  was  resolved  to  risk 
his  life  for  liberty.  Eluding  his  guards,  he  took  a 
spear  for  a  weapon  and  followed  the  forest  paths 
all  night  until  he  emerged  on  a  beach,  where  he  dis- 
covered a  canoe  and  paddled  out  to  sea.  Rough 
water  swamped  the  ticklish  craft,  and  he  had  to 
swim  half  a  mile  to  get  to  land  again.  Back  he 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     117 

trudged  to  his  hut  on  the  mountain-side  and  crawled 
into  it  before  dawn. 

Undiscouraged,  he  broke  away  again,  and  made 
for  a  town  called  Dungalla,  where  he  had  a  notion 
that  his  friend  Tuan  Hadjee,  the  priest,  might  be 
found.  He  somehow  steered  a  course  through  the 
forests  and  ravines  and  fetched  up  at  the  stockade 
which  surrounded  Dungalla.  As  a  disquieting 
apparition  he  alarmed  a  nervous  old  gentleman,  who 
scampered  off  to  shriek  to  the  village  that  a  gigantic 
white  devil  was  sitting  on  a  log  at  the  edge  of  the 
clearing.  The  old  codger  turned  out  to  be  a  ser- 
vant of  Tuan  Hadjee,  who  warmly  welcomed  the 
chief  mate  and  took  him  into  his  house  as  a  guest. 

The  rajah  to  whom  Woodard  belonged  got  wind 
of  his  whereabouts  and  wrathfully  demanded  that 
he  be  sent  back.  The  prideful  rajah  of  Dungalla 
refused  in  language  no  less  provocative.  Woodard 
smuggled  a  message  through  to  his  men,  urging 
them  to  escape  and  join  him.  This  they  succeeded 
in  doing,  and  the  people  of  Dungalla  were  delighted 
to  receive  them.  This  episode  strained  the  relations 
of  the  two  rajahs  to  the  breaking-point,  and  war 
was  promptly  declared. 

Inasmuch  as  they  were  the  bone  of  contention, 
Woodard  and  his  seamen  promptly  offered  to  fight 
on  the  side  of  the  rajah  of  Dungalla;  so  they  pro- 


118     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ceeded  to  imperil  their  skins  in  one  of  those  tribal 
feuds  which  eternally  flicker  and  smolder  in  the 
Malaysian  forests.  Woodard  was  placed  in  com- 
mand of  a  tower  upon  the  stockade  wall,  where  he 
served  a  brass  swivel  and  hammered  obedience  into 
a  native  detachment.  His  sun-blistered,  leech-bit- 
ten sailors,  clad  only  in  sarongs,  held  the  other  bar- 
ricade with  creeses  and  muskets,  and  were  regarded 
as  supernatural  heroes  by  the  simple  soldiery- of  the 
rajah. 

A  drawn  battle  was  fought,  with  about  two  hun- 
dred men  in  each  army,  and  a  good  many  were  killed 
or  wounded.  After  that  the  war  dragged  along 
and  seemed  to  be  getting  nowhere,  and  the  chief 
mate  lost  all  patience  with  it;  so  he  bearded  the 
rajah  and  flatly  told  him  that  his  men  would  fight  no 
longer  unless  some  assurance  was  given  that  they 
would  be  conveyed  to  Macassar. 

The  rajah  was  stubborn  and  evasive  and  bruskly 
commanded  the  high-tempered  Yankees  to  return  to 
their  posts  on  the  firing-line.  Woodard  argued  no 
longer,  but  marched  back  to  his  watch-tower,  sent 
for  his  seamen,  and  told  them  to  turn  in  their  mus- 
kets. Before  the  astonished  rajah  had  decided  how 
to  deal  with  this  mutiny,  the  five  mariners  broke  out 
of  the  town  under  cover  of  darkness  and  stole  a 
canoe,  carrying  with  them  as  much  food  as  they 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE    119 

could  hastily  lay  hands  on.  They  were  delayed  in 
a  search  for  paddles,  and  a  sentry  gave  the  alarm. 

Twenty  soldiers  surrounded  them  and  dragged 
them  back  to  the  rajah,  who  locked  them  up,  while 
he  chewed  betel-nut  and  meditated  on  the  case  of 
these  madmen  who  refused  to  be  tamed.  Just  then 
the  priest  Tuan  Hadjee  was  sailing  for  another 
port,  and  he  vainly  petitioned  the  royal  assent  to 
taking  the  American  sailors  along  with  him.  The 
rajah's  wrathful  refusal  so  annoyed  the  impetuous 
chief  mate  that  he  organized  another  dash  for  free- 
dom. Captivity,  privation,  and  disappointment 
seemed  to  daunt  him  not  at  all. 

This  time  the  five  mariners  surprised  the  sentries 
at  the  gates,  deftly  tied  them  up,  and  lugged  them 
to  the  beach.  There  a  large  canoe  was  discovered, 
and  the  fugitives  piled  aboard  and  hoisted  the  sail 
of  cocoanut  matting.  Unmolested,  they  moved  out 
of  the  starlit  bay  and  flitted  along  the  coast  until 
sunrise.  Then  they  hauled  in  to  hide  at  an  island 
until  night.  While  making  sail  again,  one  of  the 
men  carelessly  stepped  upon  the  gunwale  of  the 
cranky  craft,  and  it  instantly  capsized  almost  a  mile 
from  shore. 

They  climbed  upon  the  bottom,  managed  to  save 
the  paddles,  and  navigated  the  canoe  back  to  the 
island  by  swimming  with  it.  There  they  rekindled 


120     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

their  fire,  dried  and  warmed  themselves,  and  were 
ready  to  try  it  again.  They  had  lost  the  sail  and 
mast,  but  they  paddled  all  night  and  began  to  hope 
that  they  had  gone  clear  of  their  troublesome  rajah. 

In  the  morning,  however,  a  proa  swooped  down 
like  a  hawk,  and  again  the  unlucky  seamen  were 
taken  captive.  They  told  the  Malay  captain  that 
they  were  bound  to  the  port  for  which  Tuan  Hadjee 
had  sailed,  as  he  was  a  friend  and  protector  of  theirs, 
and  requested  that  they  be  landed  there.  Appar- 
ently the  amiable  priest  had  some  power  and  influ- 
ence even  among  the  cutthroats  who  manned  these 
proas,  for  the  captain  agreed  to  do  as  he  was  asked, 
and  he  proved  to  be  as  good  as  his  word. 

In  this  manner  the  chief  mate  and  his  men  were 
carried  to  the  port,  which  they  called  Sawyeh. 
Tuan  Hadjee  was  there,  and  he  gave  them  a  house 
and  was  a  genial  host  while  they  looked  the  situa- 
tion over  and  endeavored  to  unravel  the  strands  of 
their  tangled  destiny.  The  priest  entertained  them 
with  tales  of  his  own  career,  which  had  been  lurid  in 
spots.  He  was  now  sixty  years  of  age,  with  a  girl 
wife  of  sixteen,  and  a  man  of  great  piety  and  much 
respected,  but  in  his  younger  days  he  had  been  a 
famous  pirate  of  the  island  of  Mindanao. 

Among  his  exploits  was  the  capture  of  a  Dutch 
settlement  in  the  Strait  of  Malacca,  when  he  had 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE  121 

commanded  a  proa  of  ten  guns  and  two  hundred 
men.  He  had  been  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  one 
of  the  most  successful  pirates  of  those  seas,  but 
while  chasing  a  merchant  vessel  his  proa  had  turned 
turtle  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  he  thereby  lost  all  his 
property  and  riches.  After  this  misfortune  he  had 
forsaken  piracy  and  turned  to  leading  an  honorable 
life. 

He  was  an  excellent  companion  to  these  exiled 
sailormen  from  faraway  New  England  and  even 
gave  them  the  use  of  an  island  where  there  was  fruit 
and  wild  game  and  a  pleasant  house  to  live  in,  but 
they  were  no  more  contented.  After  several 
weeks,  Tuan  Hadjee  anounced  that  he  had  some 
business  to  attend  to  on  another  part  of  the  coast, 
but  would  return  in  twenty  days  and  then  attempt 
to  send  the  chief  mate  and  his  men  to  their  own 
people  at  Batavia.  While  he  was  gone,  a  merchant 
proa  came  into  port,  and  Woodard  found  that  she 
was  bound  to  Sulu,  in  the  Philippine  Islands, 
whence  he  felt  certain  he  could  get  passage  in  some 
ship  trading  with  Manila.  In  high  hopes  he  ar- 
ranged matters  with  the  master  of  the  proa,  and  the 
five  castaways  sailed  away  from  Celebes. 

Alas!  this  Malay  skipper  was  an  honest  man,  ac- 
cording to  his  lights,  and  the  gossip  of  the  town  had 
led  him  to  draw  his  own  conclusions.  His  inference 


122     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

was  that  these  white  men  belonged  to  Tuan  Hadjee 
and  were  bent  on  running  away  during  his  absence. 
No  hint  was  dropped  to  Woodard  and  his  compan- 
ions, and  they  happily  beguiled  themselves  with  vis- 
ions of  deliverance.  But  the  captain  of  the  proa 
had  taken  pains  to  inform  himself  of  the  destina- 
tion of  the  absent  Tuan  Hadjee;  wherefore  he 
shifted  his  helm  and  bore  away,  to  turn  his  passen- 
gers over  to  their  proper  owner.  To  their  amazed 
disgust,  they  sailed  into  a  little  jungle-fringed  port 
called  Tomboa,  and  there,  sure  enough,  was  the  no 
less  surprised  Tuan  Hadjee. 

The  honest  Malay  skipper  explained  the  situa- 
tion and  sailed  away  again,  while  Woodard  and  his 
disconsolate  shipmates  stood  on  the  beach  and 
cursed  their  luck  and  shook  their  fists  at  the  depart- 
ing proa. 

Their  reunion  with  Tuan  Hadjee  was  a  painful 
episode.  As  a  reformed  pirate  he  could  swear 
harder  and  louder  and  longer  than  a  Yankee  sea- 
man. He  took  the  Malay  skipper's  view  of  it,  that 
these  guests  of  his  had  broken  faith  with  him  by  ab- 
sconding while  his  back  was  turned.  The  chief 
mate  had  learned  to  adorn  his  language  with  an 
extra  embroidery  of  Malaysian  profanity,  and  the 
interview  was  not  only  eloquent,  but  turbulent. 
Then  Tuan  Hadjee,  having  exhausted  his  breath, 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE     123 

turned  sulky,  and  the  villagers  took  the  cue.  They 
ignored  the  white  visitors  as  though  they  were  under 
a  ban  of  excommunication  until  Woodard  delivered 
a  speech  in  the  crowded  market-place. 

Speaking  to  them  in  their  own  tongue,  he  elo- 
quently declaimed  that  the  unfortunate  strangers 
had  been  guilty  of  no  other  crime  than  that  of  yearn- 
ing to  behold  once  more  the  faces  of  their  own  dear 
wives  and  children.  The  feelings  of  Tuan  Hadjee 
were  profoundly  stirred  by  the  oration.  Amid  the 
applause  of  the  fickle  populace  he  clasped  the  chief 
mate  to  his  breast,  and  vowed  that  while  a  mouthful 
of  rice  remained  to  him,  his  friends  should  share  it 
with  him. 

Nothing  was  said,  however,  about  setting  the  cap- 
tives free,  and  these  energetic  sailors  began  to  plan 
another  voyage  on  their  own  account.  Tuan  Had- 
jee shrewdly  suspected  something  of  the  sort,  and 
all  the  canoes  were  carried  away  from  the  beach  and 
guarded  when  the  sun  went  down.  A  pirate  proa 
came  winging  it  into  the  harbor  of  Tomboa  to  fill 
the  water-casks  and  give  the  crew  shore  liberty. 
Woodard  noticed  that  the  men  came  ashore  in  a 
canoe  unusually  large  and  seaworthy,  and  resolved 
to  steal  it  by  hook  or  crook.  He  asked  the  sociable 
pirates  to  let  him  use  the  canoe  to  go  fishing  in  and 
offered  to  share  the  catch  with  them.  To  this  they 


124     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

consented,  providing  he  went  out  in  the  daytime  and 
stayed  well  inside  the  bay. 

After  several  fishing  trips,  Woodard  sauntered 
down  to  the  beach  in  the  dusk  as  though  to  overhaul 
the  canoe  for  an  early  start  next  morning.  The  vil- 
lagers had  ceased  to  watch  his  movements.  The 
proa  rode  at  anchor  only  a  few  yards  away,  where 
the  channel  ran  close  to  a  steep  bank.  The  pirates 
were  lounging  on  deck  and  in  the  cabin,  and  none  of 
them  happened  to  glance  in  the  direction  of  the 
canoe.  Woodard  waited  a  little,  and  slid  the  canoe 
into  the  quiet  water.  As  silent  as  a  drifting  leaf  it 
moved  away  with  the  tide,  while  he  lay  in  the  bottom 
with  a  fishing-line  over  the  side  as  a  pretext  if  he 
should  be  hailed  from  the  proa. 

Unobserved,  he  landed  at  another  beach,  where 
his  comrades  awaited  him.  They  embarked,  and 
stole  out  of  the  bay  with  food  and  water  to  last  them 
several  days.  At  last  they  were  bound  for  Macas- 
sar and  again  ready  to  defy  the  devil  and  the  deep 
sea.  For  three  days  they  held  on  their  way  and  be- 
gan to  think  the  luck  had  turned  when  a  small  proa 
tacked  out  from  the  land  and  overtook  the  canoe. 
Woodard  recognized  the  crew  as  acquaintances  of 
his  from  Tomboa,  and  frankly  told  them  where  he 
was  going.  They  commanded  him  to  fetch  his  men 
aboard  the  proa,  and  they  would  be  given  up  to  the 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE  125 

rajah  of  Tomboa;  but  the  odds  were  so  nearly  even, 
five  Americans  against  seven  natives,  that  Woodard 
laughed  at  them.  Hoisting  sail,  he  drove  his  canoe 
to  windward  of  the  proa,  and  handled  it  so  well  that 
he  fairly  ran  away  from  pursuit. 

The  wind  was  too  strong  for  the  fragile  canoe, 
and  they  had  to  seek  refuge  in  the  mouth  of  a  river, 
where  they  built  a  fire  to  cook  some  rice.  Here 
they  encountered  two  natives  who  had  come  ashore 
from  a  trading  proa,  one  of  them  a  captain  who  had 
seen  the  fugitives  while  at  Tomboa.  He  insisted 
that  they  surrender  and  return  with  him.  Tired  of 
so  much  interference,  the  chief  mate  knocked  him 
down,  and  held  a  knife  at  his  throat  until  the  Malay 
mariner  changed  his  opinion. 

The  proa  chased  them,  however,  when  the  canoe 
resumed  its  voyage ;  but  night  came  on,  and  a  thun- 
der squall  enabled  them  to  slip  away  undiscovered. 
Eight  days  after  leaving  Tomboa  they  began  to  pass 
many  towns  and  a  great  deal  of  shipping  on  the 
coast  of  Celebes,  but  they  doggedly  kept  on  their 
course  to  Macassar.  They  fought  off  a  war-canoe, 
which  attacked  them  with  arrows  and  spears,  but 
had  no  serious  misadventures  until  a  large  boat 
came  swiftly  paddling  out  of  an  inlet  and  fairly 
overwhelmed  them  by  force  of  numbers. 

Captives  again,  the  five  long-suffering  seafarers 


126     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

were  carried  into  Pamboon,  where  the  rajah  found 
them  unsatisfactory  to  interview.  David  Wood- 
ard,  chief  mate,  was  in  no  mood  to  be  thwarted,  and 
it  is  related  of  him  that  "he  was  examined  in  the 
presence  of  the  rajah  and  all  the  head  men  of  the 
place.  He  made  the  same  answers  as  before,  say- 
ing that  he  must  not  be  stopped  and  must  go  on  im- 
mediately, thus  being  more  desperate  and  confident 
from  the  dangers  and  escapes  he  had  experienced. 
The  rajah  asked  him  if  he  could  use  a  musket  well, 
which  he  denied,  having  formerly  found  the  incon- 
venience of  acknowledging  it.  The  rajah  then 
showed  him  a  hundred  brass  guns,  but  he  declined 
taking  charge  of  them.  His  wife,  a  young  girl, 
sat  down  by  the  mate  and,  calling  her  sister  and 
about  twenty  other  girls,  desired  them  to  sit  down, 
and  asked  Woodard  to  select  a  wife  from  among 
them.  This  he  refused  and,  rising  up,  bade  her 
good  night  and  went  out  of  the  house,  where  they 
soon  brought  him  some  supper." 

In  the  morning  this  redoubtable  Yankee  mate 
who,  like  Ulysses,  was  deaf  to  the  songs  of  the 
sirens  and  was  also  as  crafty  as  he  was  brave,  waited 
on  the  rajah  of  Pamboon  and  very  courteously  ad- 
dressed him  in  the  Malay  tongue,  requesting 
prompt  passage  to  Macassar  on  the  ground  that  the 
Dutch  governor  had  urgently  summoned  him,  and 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE  127 

if  he  were  detained  at  Pamboon,  it  would  be  most 
unpleasant  for  the  rajah,  whose  proas  would  be 
seized  and  his  ports  blockaded,  no  doubt,  by  way  of 
punishment. 

This  gave  the  haughty  rajah  something  to  think 
about.  The  fearless  demeanor  and  impressive  stat- 
ure of  this  keen-eyed  mariner  made  his  words  con- 
vincing. After  due  reflection,  the  rajah  sent  for 
the  captain  of  a  proa,  and  told  him  to  take  these 
troublesome  white  men  to  Macassar  with  all  pos- 
sible haste.  Woodard  was  worn  out,  his  bare 
back  terribly  burned  and  festered,  his  strength  al- 
most ebbed,  and  he  had  to  be  hoisted  aboard  the 
proa  upon  a  litter;  but  he  was  still  the  resolute,  un- 
conquerable seaman  and  leader.  The  accomoda- 
tions  were  so  wretched  that  after  three  days  of  suf- 
fering he  ordered  the  proa  to  set  him  ashore  and  to 
send  word  to  the  nearest  rajah. 

This  was  done,  and  the  dusky  potentate  who  re- 
ceived the  message  did  all  in  his  power  to  make  the 
party  comfortable,  fitting  out  a  proa,  which  enabled 
them  to  make  the  final  run  of  the  voyage  with  no 
more  hardship.  Tales  of  Woodard  had  passed  by 
word  of  mouth  along  the  coasts  of  Celebes  until  he 
was  almost  a  legendary  character.  It  was  on  June 
15,  1795,  that  these  five  wanderers  reached  their 
goal  of  Macassar  after  two  years  and  five  months 


128     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

of  captivity  among  the  Malays.  They  were  not 
only  alive,  every  man  of  them,  but  not  one  was  per- 
manently broken  in  health. 

The  Dutch  governor  of  the  island  and  the  officers 
of  the  garrison  of  the  Dutch  East  India  Company 
treated  them  with  the  most  generous  hospitality, 
providing  clothes  and  money  and  refusing  to  listen 
to  promises  of  recompense.  They  soon  sailed  for 
Batavia,  where  the  four  sailors,  William  Gideon, 
John  Cole,  Robert  Gilbert,  and  George  Williams 
signed  articles  in  an  American  ship  bound  to  Bos- 
ton, and  resumed  the  hard  and  hazardous  toil  of  the 
sea  to  earn  their  bread.  Their  extraordinary  ex- 
perience was  all  in  the  day's  work,  and  it  is  unlikely 
that  they  thought  very  much  about  it. 

Woodard  took  a  berth  as  chief  mate  in  another 
American  ship  that  was  sailing  for  Calcutta  and 
while  in  that  port  was  offered  command  of  a  coun- 
try ship  engaged  in  the  coastwise  trade.  During 
one  of  his  voyages  he  was  strolling  ashore  when  he 
came  face  to  face  with  Captain  Hubbard  of  the  En- 
terprise, which  had  vanished  in  the  Straits  of  Mac- 
assar and  left  its  unlucky  boat  adrift.  The  de- 
lighted captain  explained  that  he  had  waited  and 
cruised  about  for  three  days  in  a  search  for  the  miss- 
ing boat  and  had  given  it  up  for  lost. 

He  warmly  urged  Woodard  to  join  him  in  his 


DAVID  WOODARD,  CHIEF  MATE  129 

fine  new  ship,  the  America,  and  go  to  Mauritius. 
The  former  chief  mate  gladly  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, for  he  was  homesick  for  his  own  flag  and 
people.  At  Mauritius  Captain  Hubbard  gave  up 
the  command  because  of  ill  health  and  turned  it 
over  to  David  Woodard.  Thus  the  true  story  all 
turned  out  precisely  as  should  be,  and  it  was  Cap- 
tain Woodard  who  trod  the  quarterdeck  of  his  taut 
ship  America  as  she  lifted  her  lofty  spars  in  the 
lovely  harbor  of  Mauritius. 

Coincidence  is  often  stranger  in  fact  than  in  fic- 
tion. Before  he  left  Mauritius,  Captain  Woodard 
ran  across  three  of  his  old  sailors  of  the  open  boat 
and  the  two  years  of  captivity  among  the  Malays. 
They  had  been  wrecked  on  another  China  voyage, 
and  were  in  distress  for  lack  of  clothes  and  money. 
Their  old  chief  mate,  now  a  prosperous  shipmaster, 
with  a  share  in  the  profits  of  the  voyage,  outfitted 
them  handsomely  and  left  them  with  dollars  in  their 
pockets. 

In  later  years  Captain  David  Woodard  traded 
to  Batavia,  and  met  more  than  one  Malay  who  had 
seen  him  or  had  listened  to  fabulous  tales  of  his 
prowess  during  his  long  durance  in  the  jungles  and 
mountains  of  Celebes.  In  1804  this  splendid  ad- 
venturer of  the  old  merchant  marine  was  able  to  re- 
tire from  the  sea  with  an  independent  income. 


130     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Near  Boston  he  bought  a  farm  and  lived  on  it,  and 
this  was  the  proper  way  to  cast  anchor,  for  such  is 
the  ambition  of  all  worthy  mariners  when  they  cease 
to  furrow  the  blue  sea. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CAPTAIN    PADDOCK   ON    THE    COAST   OF   BARBARY 

THE  veterans  of  the  Revolution  of  '76?  who  had 
won  a  war  for  freedom,  were  still  young  men 
when  American  sailors  continued  to  be  bought  and 
sold  as  slaves  for  a  few  dollars  a  head  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  Atlantic.  It  was  a  trade  which  had 
flourished  during  the  colonial  period,  and  was  un- 
molested even  after  the  Stars  and  Stripes  pro- 
claimed the  sovereign  pride  and  independence  of 
this  Union  of  States.  Indeed,  while  hundreds  of 
American  mariners  were  held  in  this  inhuman  bond- 
age, their  Government  actually  sent  to  the  Dey  of 
Algiers  a  million  dollars  in  money  and  other  gifts, 
including  a  fine  new  frigate,  as  humble  tribute  to 
this  bloody  heathen  pirate  in  the  hope  of  softening 
his  heart. 

It  was  the  bitterest  touch  of  humiliation  that  this 
frigate,  the  Crescent,  sailed  from  the  New  England 
harbor  of  Portsmouth,  whose  free  tides  had  borne 
a  few  years  earlier  the  brave  keels  of  John  Paul 
Jones's  Ranger  and  America. 

131 


132     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  Christian  nations  of  Europe  deliberately 
granted  immunity  to  these  nests  of  sea-robbers  in 
Algiers,  Morocco,  Tunis,  and  Tripoli  in  order  that 
they  might  prey  upon  the  ships  and  sailors  of 
weaker  countries  and  destroy  their  commerce. 
This  ignoble  spirit  was  reflected  in  a  speech  of  Lord 
Sheffield  in  Parliament  in  1784. 

"It  is  not  now  probable  that  the  American  States  will 
have  a  very  free  trade  in  the  Mediterranean.  It  will  not 
be  to  the  interest  of  any  of  the  great  maritime  powers  to 
protect  them  from  the  Barbary  States.  If  they  know 
their  interests,  they  will  not  encourage  the  Americans  to 
be  ocean  carriers.  That  the  Barbary  States  are  advan- 
tageous to  maritime  powers  is  certain." 

It  was  not  until  1803  that  the  United  States,  a 
feeble  nation  with  a  little  navy,  resolved  that  these 
shameful  indignities  could  no  longer  be  endured. 
While  Europe  cynically  looked  on  and  forebore  to 
lend  a  hand,  Commodore  Preble  steered  the  Consti- 
tution and  the  other  ships  of  his  squadron  into  the 
harbor  of  Tripoli,  smashed  its  defenses,  and  com- 
pelled an  honorable  treaty  of  peace.  Of  all  the 
wars  in  which  the  American  Navy  had  won  high 
distinction,  there  is  none  whose  episodes  are  more 
brilliant  than  those  of  the  bold  adventure  on  the 
coast  of  Barbary. 

The  spirit  of  it  was  typical  of  Preble,  the  fighting 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  133 

Yankee  commodore,  who  fell  in  with  a  strange  ship 
one  black  night  in  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  From 
the  quarterdeck  of  the  Constitution  he  trumpeted  a 
hail,  but  the  response  was  evasive,  and  both  ships 
promptly  maneuvered  for  the  weather  gage. 

"I  hail  you  for  the  last  time.  If  you  don't  an- 
swer, I  '11  fire  into  you,"  roared  Preble.  "What 
ship  is  that?" 

"His  Britannic  Majesty's  eighty- four  gun  ship- 
of-the-line  Donegal"  came  back  the  reply,  "Send 
a  boat  on  board." 

Without  an  instant's  hesitation  the  commodore 
thundered  from  his  Yankee  frigate: 

"This  is  the  United  States  forty-four-gun  ship 
Constitution,  Captain  Edward  Preble,  and  I  '11  be 
damned  if  I  send  a  boat  aboard  any  ship.  Blow 
your  matches,  boys!" 

Until  the  hordes  of  Moorish  and  Arab  cutthroats 
and  slavers  were  taught  by  force  to  respect  the  flag 
flown  by  American  merchant-men,  there  was  no  fate 
so  dreaded  by  mariners  as  shipwreck  on  the  desert 
coast  of  northern  Africa.  For  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  they  risked  the  dreadful  peril  of  enslavement 
under  taskmasters  incredibly  inhuman,  who  lashed 
and  starved  and  slew  them.  In  the  seventeenth 
century  it  was  no  uncommon  sight  in  the  ports  of 
Salem  and  Boston  to  see  an  honest  sailor  trudging 


134     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

from  house  to  house  to  beg  money  enough  to  ransom 
or  buy  his  shipmates  held  in  Barbary. 

The  old  records  note  many  such  incidents,  as  that 
in  1700: 

Benjamin  Alford  and  William  Bowditch  related  that 
their  friend  Robert  Carver  was  taken  nine  years  before 
a  captive  into  Sallee,  that  contributions  had  been  made 
for  his  redemption,  that  the  money  was  in  the  hands  of 
a  person  here,  and  that  if  they  had  the  disposal  of  it  they 
could  release  Carver. 

The  expansion  of  American  trade  in  far-distant 
waters  which  swiftly  followed  the  Revolution  in- 
creased the  number  of  disasters  of  this  kind,  and 
among  the  old  narratives  of  the  sea  that  were  writ- 
ten about  1800  no  theme  is  more  frequent,  and  few 
so  tragic,  as  the  sufferings  of  the  survivors  of  some 
gallant  American  ship  which  laid  her  bones  among 
the  breakers  of  the  African  coast.  These  personal 
experiences,  simply  and  movingly  written  by  some 
intelligent  master  or  mate  and  printed  as  thin  books 
or  pamphlets,  were  among  the  "best  sellers"  of  their 
day  when  the  world  of  fact  was  as  wildly  romantic 
as  the  art  of  fiction  was  able  to  weave  for  later  gen- 
erations. 

Among  these  briny  epics  of  the  long  ago  is  the 
story  of  Captain  Judah  Paddock  and  his  crew  of  the 
ship  Oswego.  She  sailed  from  Cork  in  March, 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  135 

1800,  for  the  Cape  Verd  Islands,  to  take  on  a  cargo 
of  salt  and  hides  and  then  to  complete  the  home- 
ward voyage  to  New  York.  The  Oswego  was  a 
fast  and  able  vessel  of  260  tons,  absurdly  small  to 
modern  eyes,  and  carried  thirteen  sailors,  including 
boys.  After  passing  Cape  Finisterre,  Captain 
Paddock  began  to  distrust  his  reckoning  because  of 
much  thick  weather,  but  felt  no  serious  concern  un- 
til the  ship  was  fairly  in  the  surf,  which  pounded  and 
hammered  her  hull  with  one  tremendous  blow  after 
another. 

Daylight  disclosed  what  the  old  sea-songs  called 
"the  high  coast  of  Barbary"  no  more  than  a  few 
hundred  yards  distant.  The  Oswego  was  beating 
out  her  life  among  the  rocks,  and  it  was  time  to 
leave  her.  The  boats  were  smashed  in  trying  to 
land,  and  the  only  refuge  was  this  cruel  and  ominous 
shore,  the  barren  wastes  of  sand  and  mountain,  the 
glaring  sun,  the  evil  nomads. 

With  a  few  bottles  of  water  and  such  food  as  they 
could  pack  on  their  backs,  these  pilgrims  set  out  to 
trudge  along  the  coast  in  the  direction  of  Mogador, 
where  they  hoped  to  find  the  protection  of  an  Eng- 
lish consul.  It  was  not  an  auspicious  omen  when 
they  discovered  a  group  of  roofless  huts  rudely  built 
of  stone,  a  heap  of  human  bones,  and  the  broken 
timbers  of  a  large  frigate  washed  up  by  the  tide. 


136     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

These  relics  were  enough  to  indicate  the  fate  of  a 
large  company  of  seamen  who  had  been  cast  away 
in  this  savage  region. 

There  were  men  of  all  sorts  among  these  hapless 
refugees  of  the  Oswego,  and  most  of  them  endured 
their  hard  lot  with  the  patient  courage  of  the  deep- 
water  mariner.  The  cook,  however,  was  an  exas- 
perating rascal  of  an  Irishman  called  Pat  who  had 
smuggled  himself  aboard  at  Cork  as  a  ragged  stow- 
away, and  he  lost  no  time  in  starting  trouble  on  the 
coast  of  Barbary.  In  his  pack  was  a  bottle  of  gin, 
which  had  passed  the  skipper's  inspection  as  water, 
and  while  on  sentry  duty  at  night  to  watch  for 
prowling  Arabs,  Pat  got  uproariously  drunk  and 
fought  a  Danish  foremast  hand  who  was  tippling 
with  him.  In  the  ruction  they  smashed  several 
precious  bottles  of  water,  and  were  too  tipsy  next 
morning  to  resume  the  march. 

The  other  sailors  held  an  informal  trial.  This 
was  their  own  affair,  and  Captain  Paddock's  pro- 
tests were  unheeded.  Pat  was  so  drunk  that  he 
could  not  appear  in  his  own  defense,  and  the  sen- 
tence was  that  his  share  of  the  bread  and  water 
should  be  taken  from  him  and  he  be  left  behind  to 
die.  He  was  accordingly  abandoned,  blissfully 
snoring  on  the  sand,  the  empty  gin  bottle  in  his  fist ; 
but  after  a  mile  or  so  of  painful  progress  two  of 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  137 

the  men  relented  and  listened  to  the  captain's  ap- 
peal. Back  they  went,  and  dragged  Pat  along, 
damning  him  bitterly  and  swearing  to  kill  him  on 
the  spot  if  he  misbehaved  again. 

After  three  days  the  torments  of  thirst  were  se- 
vere, and  the  heat  blistered  their  souls.  In  the 
wreck  of  the  Oswego  there  was  water  in  barrels, 
plenty  of  it,  and  this  was  all  that  the  fevered  minds 
of  most  of  the  sufferers  could  think  of.  Captain 
Paddock  urged  them  to  keep  on  with  him  to  the 
eastward  a  few  days  longer  toward  Mogador,  but 
they  were  ready  to  turn  and  struggle  back  to  the 
ship,  fifty  miles,  just  to  get  enough  water  to  drink. 
It  mattered  not  to  them  that  they  were  throwing 
away  the  hope  of  survival. 

The  captain  was  made  of  sterner  stuff,  and  so 
they  amiably  agreed  to  part  company.  A  black 
sailor,  Jack,  stepped  forward  and  said  with  simple 
fidelity: 

"Master,  if  you  go  on,  I  go,  too." 

The  other  negro  of  the  crew  grinned  at  his  com- 
rade and  exclaimed : 

"If  you  go,  Jack,  I  reckon  I 's  obliged  to  stand 

by." 

The  scapegrace  Pat,  regarding  the  captain  as  his 
friend  and  protector,  also  elected  to  stay  with  him. 
So  Captain  Judah  Paddock  was  left  to  toil  on- 


138     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ward  with  Black  Sam  and  Black  Jack  and  the  im- 
possible Irish  cook  as  his  companions  in  misery 
while  the  mate  and  the  rest  of  the  crew  turned  west- 
ward to  find  the  wreck  of  their  ship.  The  parting 
scene  has  a  certain  nobility  and  pathos,  as  the  cap- 
tain's narrative  describes  it. 

The  generosity  of  my  fellow  sufferers  ought  not  to  pass 
by  unnoticed.  To  a  man  they  agreed  that  we  should  have 
a  larger  share  of  the  water  remaining  than  those  returning 
to  the  ship.  Furthermore,  they  invited  us  to  join  them  in 
taking  a  drink  from  their  own  stock  and  at  the  conclusion, 
sailor-like,  they  proposed  a  parting  glass,  also  from  their 
own  bottles.  All  things  arranged  and  our  packs  made  up, 
we  took  of  each  other  an  affectionate  leave  and  thus  we 
separated.  The  expression  of  every  man  on  this  truly 
trying  occasion  can  never  be  erased  from  my  memory  as 
long  as  my  senses  remain.  Some  of  us  could  hardly  speak 
the  word  farewell.  We  shook  hands  with  each  other  and 
silently  moved  in  opposite  directions. 

Captain  Paddock  and  his  little  party  were  cap- 
tured by  Arabs  on  the  very  next  day.  He  met 
them  calmly,  his  umbrella  under  one  arm,  spy-glass 
under  the  other,  expecting  instant  death ;  but  they 
were  more  intent  on  plunder,  and  the  four  men  were 
stripped  of  their  packs  and  most  of  their  clothes  in 
a  twinkling.  It  was  soon  apparent  that  ship- 
wrecked sailors  were  worth  more  alive  than  dead, 
and  they  were  hustled  along  by  their  filthy  captors, 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  130 

who  gave  them  no  more  water  and  food  than  would 
barely  keep  soul  and  body  together. 

The  Arabs  traveled  in  haste  to  reach  the  wreck 
of  the  Oswego  as  a  rare  prize  to  be  gutted.  When 
they  arrived  on  the  scene,  another  desert  clan,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  strong,  had  already  swooped 
down  and  was  in  possession.  There  was  much  yell- 
ing and  fighting  and  bloodshed  before  a  truce  was 
declared  and  the  spoils  were  divided.  Meanwhile 
Captain  Paddock  found  opportunity  to  talk  with 
the  mate  of  the  Oswego  and  the  band  of  sailors  who 
had  returned  to  the  wreck  just  in  time  to  be  made 
miserable  captives.  Presently  Captain  Paddock 
was  dragged  away  from  them.  This  was,  indeed,  a 
last  farewell,  for  of  this  larger  party  of  American 
castaways  only  one  was  ever  heard  of  again. 

Flogged  and  starved  and  daily  threatened  with 
death,  Captain  Judah  Paddock,  Irish  Pat,  and  the 
two  black  seamen  were  carried  into  the  desert  until 
their  captors  came  to  a  wandering  community  of  a 
thousand  Bedouins,  with  their  skin  tents  and  camels 
and  sheep  and  donkeys.  Amid  the  infernal  clamor 
the  Americans  heard  a  voice  calling  loudly  in  Eng- 
lish: 

"Where  are  they?  Where  are  they?  Where 
are  the  four  sailors  ?"And  then,  as  Captain  Paddock 
tells  it, 


140     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

A  young  man  once  white  pressed  through  the  crowd, 
burnt  with  the  sun,  without  hat  or  shoes,  and  his  nakedness 
covered  only  with  a  few  rags.  The  first  words  spoken  to 
us  by  this  frightful  looking  object  were,  "  Who  are  you? 
My  friends!  My  friends!" 

I  would  have  arisen  to  greet  him  but  was  too  feeble. 
He  sat  down  at  my  side,  the  tears  streaming  from  his 
eyes,  while  he  gave  an  account  of  himself.  His  name  was 
George  and  he  had  been  the  steward  of  a  ship  called  the 
Martin  Hall  of  London,  cast  away  upon  that  coast  more 
than  a  year  before.  Part  of  the  crew  had  been  marched 
in  a  southeasterly  direction  to  a  place  they  called  Elic, 
another  part  had  been  carried  to  Swearah  and  there  ran- 
somed, and  four  of  them  yet  remained  among  the  wander- 
ing Arabs  who  had  been  very  cruel  to  them.  He  had  no 
doubt  that  some  of  the  men  had  been  murdered  because  it 
was  rumored  that  their  owners  could  not  find  a  ready  sale 
for  them,  or  the  prices  offered  were  too  small. 

A  few  days  after  this,  the  chief  of  the  tribe, 
Ahamed,  came  back  from  a  journey  with  two  other 
lads  of  this  same  English  crew.  One  was  Jack,  a 
cabin  boy  of  thirteen,  and  the  other  was  named 
Lawrence,  a  year  or  two  older.  Curiously  enough, 
the  English-born  urchin,  Jack,  seemed  contented 
among  these  wild  Bedouins,  and  was  rapidly  for- 
getting his  own  people  and  the  memories  of  child- 
hood. These  three  youngesters  from  the  Martin 
Hall  had  learned  to  speak  Arabic  quite  readily,  and 
they  informed  Captain  Paddock  that  all  the  white 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  141 

slaves  were  to  be  sold  at  once  and  that  bargaining 
had  already  begun. 

The  captain  of  the  Oswego  and  his  two  black  sea- 
men were  held  at  very  high  prices,  and  apparently 
there  was  no  immediate  market  for  them.  In  this 
year  of  1800  thrifty  New  England  skippers  and 
merchants  were  piling  up  money  in  the  African 
slave-trade,  and  there  was  logic  in  the  argument  of 
Ahamed,  the  Bedouin  chief: 

"I  do  not  wish  to  sell  these  two  black  men  at  any  price. 
They  are  used  to  our  climate  and  can  travel  the  desert 
without  suffering.  They  are  men  that  you  Christian 
dogs  stole  from  the  Guinea  coast,  and  you  were  going 
there  to  get  more  of  them.  You  are  worse  than  the  Arabs 
who  enslave  you  only  when  it  is  God's  will  to  send  you  on 
our  coast." 

Captain  Paddock  confessed  that  never  did  he  feel 
a  reproach  more  sensibly;  that  a  great  many  wear- 
ing the  Christian  name  did  force  away  from  their 
homes  and  carry  into  perpetual  slavery  the  poor 
African  negroes,  and  thereby  did  make  themselves 
worse  than  the  Arabs.  The  English  lads  drove  this 
truth  home  by  secretly  admitting  to  him  that  their 
ship,  the  Martin  Hall,  had  been  engaged  in  the 
Guinea  slave-trade  when  wrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Barbary. 


142     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

After  much  dickering  with  Ahamed,  the  captain 
agreed  to  purchase  freedom  at  the  rate  of  forty  dol- 
lars per  head,  in  addition  to  two  looking-glasses, 
two  combs,  two  pairs  of  scissors,  a  large  bunch  of 
beads,  and  a  knife,  as  soon  as  he  and  his  companions 
should  be  safely  delivered  at  a  friendly  port.  This 
price  was  not  to  include  any  official  ransom  which 
the  crafty  Arabs  might  squeeze  out  of  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  British  or  American  governments. 

Several  days  of  noisy  haggling  were  necessary  be- 
fore Captain  Paddock,  Irish  Pat,  and  the  three 
English  boys  were  transferred  to  a  new  owner,  but 
the  chief  retained  Black  Sam  and  Black  Jack,  and 
his  caravan  moved  off  to  the  mountains  with  them. 
"The  looks  of  these  poor  fellows  were  so  dejected, 
it  was  painful  to  behold  them,"  wrote  the  skipper, 
and  in  this  forlorn  manner  vanished  forever  these 
two  seamen  of  the  Oswego's  forecastle  who  had 
served  with  a  cheerful  fidelity  and  whose  hearts 
were  as  white  as  their  skins  were  black. 

The  Arabs  drifted  into  a  region  more  fertile, 
where  there  was  grain  to  reap  with  sickles  and  graz- 
ing for  the  large  flocks.  The  mariners  were  kept 
at  unremitting  toil  on  the  scantiest  rations,  and  they 
became  mere  skeletons;  but  their  health  bore  up 
astonishingly  well,  and  not  one  of  them  died  by  the 
wayside.  The  irrepressible  Pat  came  nearest  to 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  143 

death  when  he  sang  Irish  songs  and  danced  jigs  for 
the  Arab  women,  and  so  delighted  them  that  they 
fed  him  on  porridge,  or  "stirabout,"  as  he  called  it, 
until  he  swelled  like  a  balloon. 

That  astute  chieftain,  Ahamed,  reappeared  on 
some  important  errand  of  tribal  conference,  and 
again  held  discourse  with  Captain  Paddock  concern- 
ing the  ethics  of  the  slave-trade.  In  his  stately 
fashion  he  declaimed : 

"You  say  that  if  I  were  in  your  country,  your  people 
would  treat  me  better  than  I  treat  you.  There  is  no  truth 
in  you;  nothing  but  lies.  If  I  were  there,  I  should  be 
doomed  to  a  life- time  of  slavery  and  be  put  to  the  hardest 
labor  in  tilling  your  fields.  You  are  too  lazy  yourselves  to 
work  in  your  fields,  and  therefore  you  send  your  ships  to 
the  negro  coast,  and  in  exchange  for  the  worthless  trinkets 
with  which  you  cheat  those  poor  blacks,  you  take  away 
ship-loads  of  them  to  your  country  from  which  never  one 
returns.  We  pray  earnestly  to  Almighty  God  to  send 
Christians  ashore  here  in  order  that  we  may  gain  a  little 
profit  of  the  same  kind,  and  God  hears  our  prayers  and 
often  sends  us  some  good  ships." 

It  was  this  same  masterful  Bedouin,  Icfcrd  of  the 
desert  wastes,  who  enlightened  Captain  Paddock  as 
to  what  had  befallen  the  frigate  which  drove  ashore 
where  the  Oswego's  crew  had  discovered  the  sea- 
washed  timbers,  the  roofless  huts  of  stone,  and  the 
heap  of  human  bones.  It  was  a  very  large  war- 


144     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ship,  French  or  British,  and  the  crew  of  several  hun- 
dred men  were  able  to  land  much  property  and  to 
make  shelters  for  themselves  before  the  Arabs  found 
them.  A  small  tribe  went  down  to  despoil  them  of 
all  their  belongings,  as  was  righteous  and  proper, 
but  the  armed  men-of-war's-men  fired  upon  the 
Arab  visitors,  who  were  enraged  at  the  resistance  of 
these  Christian  dogs  and  fell  upon  them  furiously. 
Many  were  killed  on  both  sides,  and  the  Arabs,  find- 
ing the  enemy  so  numerous  and  well  disciplined, 
sent  for  help,  and  another  tribe  went  down  to  the 
sea. 

It  was  a  great  fight,  for  the  Christian  sailors  shot 
very  straight  and  often,  and  the  Arabs  were  not 
able  to  close  in  with  their  long  knives;  so  a  third 
tribe  was  summoned,  and  the  command  was  turned 
over  to  Ahamed.  He  said  to  Captain  Paddock : 

"At  daylight  I  made  signs  to  the  infidel  dogs  to  lay  down 
their  arms  upon  which  their  camp  seemed  all  in  confusion. 
At  the  moment  we  were  preparing  to  attack  them,  they 
formed  themselves  in  a  close  body  and  began  to  march  off 
eastward.  We  formed  ourselves  in  three  divisions,  accord- 
ing to  the  tribes,  and  the  chief  of  each  tribe  led  his  own 
men.  We  attacked  them  in  front  and  in  rear,  and  after 
fighting  a  long  time  we  killed  half  those  dogs,  and  then  the 
remnant  left  alive  laid  down  their  arms.  We  now  all 
dropped  our  guns,  and  fell  upon  them  with  our  knives,  and 
every  one  of  them  was  killed,  and  the  whole  number  we 
found  to  be  five  hundred." 


•% 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  145 

After  several  months  of  heartbreaking  toil  and 
hopes  deferred,  Ahamed  concluded  to  take  the  busi- 
ness in  hand  and  to  see  what  could  be  done  about 
getting  rid  of  the  captain  and  Pat  and  the  three 
English  boys  at  a  satisfactory  profit.  The  harvests 
had  been  gathered,  and  the  demand  for  labor  was 
not  urgent.  Ahamed  had  been  greatly  pestered  by 
a  hag  of  a  sister  who  was  anxious  to  get  her  hands 
on  a  looking-glass,  comb,  and  scissors  which  had 
been  mentioned  as  part  of  the  bargain. 

Accordingly  they  set  out  for  the  coast  with 
Ahamed  in  charge  of  a  small  escort,  all  mounted  on 
good  Arab  horses,  the  captives  tortured  by  uncer- 
tainty, for  "avarice  was  the  ruling  passion  of  our 
owners,"  says  Captain  Paddock,  "and  if  they  could 
have  obtained  as  much  money  by  putting  us  to 
death  as  by  selling  us,  I  verily  believe  they  would 
not  have  hesitated  to  kill  us  on  the  spot,  for  of  hu- 
mane feelings  toward  Christians  they  were  com- 
pletely devoid." 

Near  the  coast  they  met  two  horsemen,  who 
halted  to  discuss  conditions  in  the  slave-marts,  much 
as  modern  salesmen  meet  in  the  lobby  of  a  hotel. 
One  of  these  pilgrims  advised  Ahamed  to  stay  away 
from  Swearah,  telling  him: 

"It  is  not  best  to  carry  them  there.  At  Elic  the  Jews 
will  give  more  for  them  than  the  consul  at  Swearah  will 


146     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

pay  as  ransom.  Besides,  the  plague  has  been  killing  so 
many  people  that  you  ought  to  keep  these  Christian  slaves 
until  the  next  harvest,  when  there  will  be  a  great  scarcity 
of  labor." 

This  advice  seemed  plausible  until  Ahamed  en- 
countered two  acquaintances  afoot,  one  of  them  a 
very  bald  old  man,  who  held  an  opinion  quite  the 
contrary,  explaining: 

"In  Elic  the  plague  still  rages,  and  if  you  carry 
your  Christian  slaves  there,  they  may  all  die  before 
you  get  rid  of  them.  And  just  now  they  would 
not  fetch  enough  to  reward  you  for  the  trouble  of 
taking  them  there." 

Evidently  perplexed,  Ahamed  changed  the  course 
of  his  journey,  to  the  dismay  of  Captain  Paddock, 
who  feared  that  he  was  to  be  conveyed  into  the  in- 
terior of  Barbary,  beyond  all  chance  of  salvation. 
In  a  walled  town  Ahamed  met  his  own  brother,  who 
was  also  a  tribal  chief,  and  for  once  the  wretched 
captives  were  given  enough  to  eat. 

"Dear  brother  of  mine/'  was  Ahamed's  greeting. 
"I  am  bound  off  to  find  a  market  for  these  vile 
Christians,  who  have  been  complaining  incessantly 
of  hunger.  And  I  promised  that  they  should  have 
an  abundance  of  victuals  upon  their  arrival  here." 

The  brother  gravely  assented,  and  his  hospitality 
was  so  sincere  that  when  one  of  his  wives  failed  to 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  147 

cook  sufficient  stew  for  the  evening  meal  he  felled 
her  with  a  club  and  proceeded  to  beat  her  to  death 
by  way  of  reproof. 

"I  will  see  if  my  orders  cannot  be  obeyed,"  he  re- 
marked to  Ahamed,  who  viewed  it  as  no  affair  of 
his. 

An  exchange  of  gossip  persuaded  Ahamed  to 
seek  the  little  Moorish  sea-port  of  Saint  Cruz,  or 
Agadir,  and  try  to  dispose  of  them  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. Four  months  after  the  wreck  of  the 
Osvcego,  Captain  Judah  Paddock  beheld  a  harbor 
and  ships  riding  at  anchor.  The  governor  of  Aga- 
dir, k  portly,  courteous  Moor,  commanded  Ahamed 
to  take  his  captives  to  Mogador  without  delay  and 
deliver  them  up  to  the  British  consul.  To  Captain 
Paddock  he  declared: 

"These  Arabs  are  a  set  of  thieves,  robbers,  and 
murderers,  and  from  time  immemorial  they  have 
been  at  war  with  the  Moors  and  with  all  others 
within  their  reach.  If  there  is  any  more  trouble,  I 
will  keep  you  here  a  few  days,  when  I  shall  be  going 
myself  to  Mogador." 

The  warlike  Ahamed  was  somewhat  abashed  by 
this  reception,  but  he  made  great  haste  to  obey  the 
governor's  decree.  Mounted  on  camels,  the  party 
crossed  the  mountain  trails,  and  then  halted  to  con- 
sider breaking  back  into  the  desert  with  the  captives 


148     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

and  seeking  a  more  auspicious  market  for  them. 
Ahamed  regretted  that  he  had  not  sold  them  before 
he  foolishly  strayed  into  the  clutches  of  the  ac- 
cursed Moorish  governor  of  Agadir.  More  than 
likely  there  would  be  no  ransom  forthcoming  at 
Mogador. 

In  the  nick  of  time  another  Moorish  gentleman 
strolled  into  the  little  walled  mountain  town  where 
they  tarried  for  the  night,  and  demanded  to  know 
what  was  going  on.  To  him  Ahamed  sourly  vouch- 
safed: 

"These  be  Christians  whom  God  in  His  goodness 
cast  upon  our  coast.  We  bought  them  on  the  edge 
of  the  great  desert  from  a  tribe  which  had  taken 
them  from  the  wreck.  We  had  intended  to  carry 
them  on  to  Mogador,  but  to-day  we  have  heard  that 
the  consul  has  no  money  to  buy  Christians  with." 

The  Moor  suggested  that  Captain  Paddock  dic- 
tate a  letter  to  the  British  consul  at  Mogador,  nam- 
ing a  ransom  price  of  four  hundred  dollars  each, 
which  message  could  be  sent  on  ahead  of  Ahamed, 
who  might  then  await  a  reply  before  venturing  into 
the  city.  The  messenger  galloped  away  on  a  spir- 
ited steed,  but,  alas!  he  soon  came  galloping  back, 
having  met  a  friend  on  the  road  who  read  the  letter 
and  swore  that  it  would  not  do  at  all. 

Captain  Paddock  was  in  the  depths  of  despair 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  149 

when  the  friendly  Moor  came  to  the  rescue  with  an- 
other plan.  The  American  captain  should  be  his 
own  messenger  into  Mogador,  with  Ahamed  and  an 
escort  to  guard  against  escape,  while  the  other  sail- 
ors were  held  in  the  mountains  as  hostages. 

This  idea  was  favorably  received,  and  after  a 
wearisome  journey  Captain  Judah  Paddock  rode 
into  Mogador  to  find  the  British  consul.  When  he 
entered  the  flat-roofed  stone  building  above  which 
flew  the  red  cross  of  St.  George,  six  or  eight  hearty- 
looking  English  sailors  rushed  forward  to  welcome 
him  as  a  shipwrecked  seamen.  They  were  survivors 
of  the  Martin  Hall,  "and  when  I  told  them  that 
three  of  their  crew  were  with  my  party,"  relates 
Captain  Paddock,  "their  joy  was  loud  and  bois- 
terous. One  lusty  son  of  Neptune  ran  to  the  con- 
sul's door,  shouting: 

"  'Mr.  Gwyn,  Mr.  Gwyn,  an  English  captain  is 
here  from  the  Arab  coast,  and  the  Arabs  with 
him!'" 

The  consul,  an  elderly  man,  hastened  out  in  his 
shirt  and  breeches,  for  the  hour  was  early  in  the 
morning,  and  to  him  Captain  Paddock  explained 
that  he  was  really  an  American  shipmaster  whose 
only  chance  of  rescue  had  been  in  calling  himself  an 
Englishman.  Mr.  Gwyn  invited  him  to  sit  down 
to  breakfast,  and  tactfully  explained  that  there  was 


150     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

supposed  to  be  an  American  consular  agent  in  Mog- 
ador,  but  the  incumbent  just  then  was  a  Genoese 
who  spoke  no  English,  and  had  been  bundled  aboard 
an  outward-bound  ship  by  command  of  the  Em- 
peror of  Morocco,  who  had  conceived  a  dislike  for 
him.  Mr.  Gwyn  went  on  to  break  the  news  that  he 
had  no  funds  with  which  to  ransom  captive  sailors 
and  that  the  nearest  official  resource  would  be  the 
American  consul-general  at  Tangier. 

At  this  Ahamed  was  for  dragging  his  slaves  back 
to  the  desert,  but  the  kindly  Mr.  Gwyn  had  no  in- 
tention of  permitting  it,  and  he  introduced  Captain 
Paddock  to  a  firm  of  British  merchants,  the  broth- 
ers William  and  Alexander  Court,  who  promptly 
offered  to  pay  the  amounts  stipulated  and  to  trust 
to  the  American  government  for  repayment. 

It  then  transpired  that  even  after  paying  the 
price  to  the  Arab  tribes  for  the  recovery  of  such 
shipwrecked  waifs  as  these,  it  depended  upon  the 
whim  and  the  pleasure  of  the  Emperor  of  Morocco 
whether  they  should  be  allowed  to  go  home  from 
Barbary.  He  had  been  known  to  hold  Christian 
wanderers  as  prisoners  until  it  suited  him  to  issue 
a  special  edict  or  passport  of  departure. 

While  dining  at  the  house  of  a  British  resident  in 
Mogador,  Captain  Paddock  met  a  Jewish  merchant 
recently  returned  from  the  Sahara  coast  who  told  a 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  151 

yarn  which  brought  a  gleam  of  humor  into  the  bit- 
ter experience  of  the  castaways.  He  had  got  wind 
of  a  shipwreck  and  posted  off  to  the  scene  on  the 
chance  of  a  speculation.  At  the  Oswego  he  found 
two  or  three  hundred  Arabs  industriously  despoil- 
ing the  hulk  of  the  ship.  She  had  no  cargo  in  her 
when  she  went  ashore,  being  merely  ballasted  with 
Irish  earth.  The  Arabs  reasonably  deduced  that 
this  stuff  must  be  valuable  or  a  ship  would  not  be 
laden  with  it,  and  although  they  were  unable  to 
comprehend  what  it  was,  they  thriftily  proceeded 
to  salvage  every  possible  pound  of  it. 

They  requested  the  Jewish  merchant  to  examine 
the  treasure  which  had  cost  them  much  labor,  as  they 
had  been  compelled  to  dive  for  most  of  it.  Every 
Arab  had  been  carefully  allotted  his  rightful  share 
in  order  to  prevent  quarreling  and  bloodshed,  and 
it  was  guarded  in  a  little  heap  inside  his  tent.  They 
were  greatly  mortified,  the  merchant  recounted, 
when  he  laughed  and  told  them  the  ballast  was 
worth  no  more  than  the  sand  upon  which  they  stood. 

Ahamed  returned  to  the  mountain  stronghold  and 
fetched  to  Mogador  the  other  mariners  who  were 
held  as  hostages  awaiting  the  tidings  of  ransom. 
The  little  British  lad  called  Jack  had  no  desire  to 
leave  Barbary.  He  promptly  ran  away  from  Mr. 
Gwyn  and  the  consulate  and  lived  with  Moorish 


152     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

friends  in  Mogador  and  even  paraded  an  adopted 
father.  Much  distressed,  Captain  Paddock  con- 
sulted the  Moorish  governor,  who  replied  as  follows : 

You  shall  have  all  the  indulgence  that  our  laws  permit, 
which  is  this :  examine  the  boy  in  my  presence  from  day  to 
day,  for  three  successive  days,  and  if  you  can  within  that 
time  persuade  him  to  return  to  the  Christian  religion,  you 
may  receive  him  back.  Otherwise,  as  he  has  voluntarily 
come  among  us  and  gone  through  our  ceremonies,  we  are 
in  duty  bound  to  retain  him. 

The  apostate  sea  urchin  of  the  Martin  Hall  was 
accordingly  examined  in  Arabic,  and  declared  that 
he  loved  his  adopted  father,  that  he  had  become  a 
Mohammedan,  and  would  never  change  from  it. 
Asked  the  reason,  he  said  he  liked  this  religion  much 
better,  because  all  Christians  were  to  be  eternally 
damned  while  a  Mohammedan  should  see  God  and 
be  saved.  He  repeated  the  long  prayer  of  Rama- 
dan in  Arabic  without  stumbling  over  a  word,  and 
was  otherwise  so  proficient  in  the  new  faith  that  the 
governor's  verdict  favored  his  plea.  There  was 
great  rejoicing  in  Mogador  over  this  conversion, 
and  a  procession  of  true  believers  escorted  young 
Jack  through  the  narrow  streets. 

Captain  Judah  Paddock  waited  in  Mogador  until 
the  word  came  from  the  imperial  palace  in  Fez  that 
granted  him  the  decree  of  liberty  for  himself  and 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  153 

any  of  his  men  who  should  be  detained  elsewhere  in 
Barbary.  Soon  after  this  an  English  brig  stood 
into  the  harbor,  but  there  was  no  room  for  passen- 
gers in  her,  and  Captain  Paddock  lingered  in  te- 
dious exile  until  a  Portuguese  schooner  came  in 
from  Lisbon.  Pat,  the  Irish  cook,  refused  to  leave 
Mogador,  but  the  reasons  had  nothing  to  do  with 
religion.  He  told  his  skipper  that  the  mate  and  the 
men  of  the  Oswego  had  sworn  to  kill  him  wherever 
they  should  cross  his  hawse,  afloat  or  ashore,  and  if 
any  of  them  were  lucky  enough  to  escape  from  Bar- 
bary, his  life  would  not  be  worth  a  candle.  He  had 
discovered  another  Irishman  in  Mogador  who  was 
teaching  him  the  cooper's  trade,  and  the  Moorish 
girls  were  very  fond  of  his  songs  and  his  jig-steps. 

From  Lisbon  Captain  Paddock  sailed  homeward 
bound  in  the  good  ship  Perseverence  of  Baltimore, 
and  set  foot  on  his  native  soil  in  November,  almost 
a  year  after  his  disaster  on  the  coast  of  Barbary. 
By  invitation  he  called  to  see  the  Secretary  of  State, 
John  Marshall,  and  told  his  story,  besides  filing  the 
documents  in  the  case. 

Four  years  later  than  this  he  was  walking  through 
Water  Street  in  New  York  when  he  met  John  Hill, 
one  of  the  sailors  of  the  ill-fated  crew  of  the  Oswego. 
He  was  the  sole  survivor  of  the  party  of  the  mate 
and  a  dozen  men  who  had  been  carried  away  from 


154     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  wreck  into  the  Barbary  desert.  He  had  been 
sold  separately,  and  often  resold  by  one  owner  and 
another,  so  that  he  had  heard  never  a  word  of  his 
companions,  who  had  been  scattered  among  the 
wandering  tribes  of  the  desert. 

He  had  chanced  to  meet  and  talk  with  one  other 
Christian  slave,  a  sailor  from  an  American  schooner 
out  of  Norfolk  who  had  swum  ashore  on  a  spar  when 
the  vessel  stranded,  and  was  the  only  man  saved. 
Seaman  John  Hill  of  the  Oswego  and  this  poor  de- 
relict from  Norfolk  had  comforted  each  other  for  a 
little  spell,  and  then  they  were  parted.  Hill  had 
finally  disguised  himself  as  an  Arab,  and  after  a 
series  of  wonderful  escapes  and  adventures  had 
managed  to  reach  Agadir,  where  he  was  promptly 
sold  to  a  Jew,  who  kept  him  at  hard  labor  for  twelve 
months  before  the  American  consul-general  heard 
of  his  plight  and  obtained  his  release. 

In  concluding  his  narrative,  Captain  Judah  Pad- 
dock ventured  this  opinion,  which  was,  no  doubt,  the 
truth: 

"All  that  I  was  able  to  learn  while  a  slave  in  Bar- 
bary confirmed  my  belief  that  many  unfortunate 
mariners  have  been  wrecked  on  that  shore  and  there 
perished,  who  were  supposed  by  their  relatives  and 
friends  to  have  foundered  at  sea." 

Another  story,  well  known  in  its  day,  was  that  of 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  155 

Captain  James  Riley  of  the  American  brig  Com- 
merce which  was  lost  on  the  Barbary  coast  in  1815. 
The  torments  of  his  crew  while  in  the  hands  of  their 
Arab  captors  are  really  too  dreadful  to  describe  in 
detail.  Captain  Riley,  a  herculean  sailor  weighing 
more  than  two  hundred  pounds,  was  a  mere  skeleton 
of  ninety  pounds  when  he  gained  his  liberty  at 
Tangier,  but  he  recovered  to  command  other  ships 
and  lived  to  a  ripe  old  age.  His  soul  wrung  with 
the  memories  of  the  experience,  he  wrote: 

"Not  less  than  six  American  vessels  are  known  to  have 
been  lost  on  this  part  of  the  coast  since  the  year  1800,  be- 
sides numbers  of  English,  French,  Spanish,  Portuguese, 
etc.,  which  are  also  known  to  have  been  wrecked  there,  and 
no  doubt  many  other  vessels  that  never  have  been  heard 
from, — but  it  is  only  Americans  and  Englishmen  that  are 
ever  heard  from  after  the  first  news  of  the  shipwreck. 
The  French,  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and  Italian  govern- 
ments, it  is  said,  seldom  ransom  their  unfortunate  ship- 
wrecked subjects,  and  they  are  thus  doomed  to  perpetual 
slavery  and  misery, — no  friendly  hand  is  ever  stretched 
forth  to  relieve  their  distresses  and  to  heal  their  bleeding 
wounds,  nor  any  voice  of  humanity  to  soothe  their  bitter 
pangs, — till  worn  out  with  sufferings  indescribable  they 
resign  their  souls  to  the  God  who  gave  them,  and  launch 
into  the  eternal  world  with  pleasure,  as  death  is  the  only 
relief  from  their  miseries." 

Farther  to  the  southward  on  this  African  coast 
was  the  land  of  the  black  folk,  and  toward  the  Cape 


156     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

of  Good  Hope  lay  the  country  of  the  Kafirs, 
against  whom  the  Boer  settlers  waged  a  war  of  ex- 
termination. All  white  men  looked  alike  to  these 
savage  warriors,  and  it  ill  befell  the  ship  that  was 
cast  away  among  them.  There  are  scenes  in  the 
wreck  of  the  Grosvenor,  East  Indiaman,  lost  on  the 
Kafir  coast  in  1782,  that  are  distinguished  for 
haunting  pathos  and  somber  tragedy.  It  was  a 
large  ship's  company,  with  a  total  number  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty-five  men,  women,  and  children, 
and  no  more  than  a  dozen  survivors  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  Dutch  settlements  after  four  months  of 
terrible  suffering. 

All  the  rest  were  killed  or  died  or  were  missing, 
and  among  those  who  vanished  in  the  jungle  were 
the  captain  and  his  party,  with  which  were  most  of 
the  women  and  children.  There  was  no  trace  of 
these  English  women  until  a  Colonel  Gordon  ex- 
plored the  country  of  the  Kafir  tribes  in  1788,  and 
there  met  a  native  who  said  that  a  white  woman 
dwelt  among  his  black  people.  "She  had  a  child," 
related  the  informant,  "which  she  frequently  em- 
braced, and  wept  bitterly." 

Bad  health  compelled  Colonel  Gordon  to  return 
homeward,  but  he  promised  to  reward  the  native  if 
he  would  carry  a  letter  to  the  white  woman,  and  he 
accordingly  wrote  in  French,  Dutch,  and  English, 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  157 

desiring  that  some  sign,  such  as  a  burnt  stick  or  any 
other  token,  might  be  sent  back  to  him,  and  he 
would  make  every  exertion  to  rescue  her.  The 
Kafir  undertook  the  mission  with  eagerness,  but 
nothing  more  was  ever  heard  of  him.  An  account 
of  the  wreck  of  the  Grosvenor  written  before  1812 
stated : 

"It  is  said  by  officers  who  have  resided  at  the  Cape  that 
a  general  belief  prevailed  of  the  existence  of  some  of  the 
unfortunate  females  who  survived  the  wreck.  It  was  sur- 
mised that  they  might  have  it  in  their  power  to  return  and 
leave  the  Kaffirs  but,  apprehending  that  their  place  in  so- 
ciety was  lost  and  that  they  should  be  degraded  in  the 
eyes  of  their  equals  after  spending  so  great  a  portion  of 
their  lives  with  savages  who  had  compelled  them  to  a  tem- 
porary union,  they  resolved  not  to  forsake  the  fruits  of 
that  union  and  therefore  abode  with  the  chiefs  who  had 
protected  them." 

In  1796  the  American  ship  Hercules,  Captain 
Benjamin  Stout,  was  wrecked  on  this  same  coast 
where  the  Grosvenor  had  been  lost.  These  casta- 
ways were  more  fortunate,  for  the  Kafirs  and  the 
Boers  happened  to  be  at  peace,  and  they  made  their 
way  to  the  outlying  farms  of  the  white  pioneers  in 
the  Hottentot  country.  Captain  Stout  wrote  the 
story  of  his  adventures,  and  a  stirring  yarn  it  is, 
but  the  reference  of  particular  interest  just  here  is 
as  follows : 


158     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

This  being,  as  I  conceived,  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
spot  where  the  Grosvenor  was  lost  in  1782,  I  inquired 
whether  any  of  the  natives  remembered  such  a  catastro- 
phe. Most  of  them  answered  in  the  affirmative  and,  as- 
cending one  of  the  sand  hills,  pointed  to  the  place  where 
the  Grosvenor  had  suffered.  I  then  desired  to  know 
whether  they  had  received  any  certain  accounts  respect- 
ing the  fate  of  Captain  Coxon  who  was  proceeding  on  his 
way  to  the  Cape  with  a  large  party  of  people,  including 
several  men  and  women  passengers  that  were  saved  from 
the  wreck. 

They  answered  that  Captain  Coxon  and  the  men  were 
slain.  One  of  the  chiefs  having  insisted  on  taking  two  of 
the  white  ladies  to  his  kraal,  the  captain  and  his  officers 
resisted  and  not  being  armed  were  immediately  destroyed. 
The  natives  at  the  same  time  gave  me  to  understand  that 
at  the  period  when  the  Grosvenor  was  wrecked  their  na- 
tion was  at  war  with  the  colonists,  and  as  Captain  Coxon 
and  his  crew  were  whites  they  could  not  tell  but  they 
would  assist  the  colonists. 

The  fate  of  the  unfortunate  English  ladies  gave  me  so 
much  uneasiness  that  I  most  earnestly  requested  the  na- 
tives to  tell  me  all  they  knew  of  the  situation,  whether  they 
were  alive  or  dead,  and  if  living  what  part  of  the  country 
they  inhabited.  They  replied  with  much  apparent  con- 
cern that  one  of  the  ladies  had  died  a  short  time  after  her 
arrival  at  the  kraal,  but  they  understood  that  the  other 
was  living  and  had  several  children  by  the  chief.  "Where 
she  is  now,  we  know  not,"  said  they. 

There  was  evidence  of  an  earlier  mystery  of  this 
mournful  kind  when  the  Doddington  was  wrecked 
on  a  rock  in  the  Indian  Ocean  in  1755.  Her  crew 


CAPTAIN  PADDOCK  159 

built  a  boat  in  which  they  coasted  along  Natal,  and 
while  ashore  in  search  of  food  and  water,  "the  Eng- 
lish sailors  were  extremely  surprised  to  find  among 
these  savages,  who  were  quite  black,  with  woolly 
hair,  a  youth  apparently  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of 
age,  perfectly  white,  with  European  features,  fine, 
light  hair,  and  altogether  different  from  the  natives 
of  this  country,  although  he  spoke  only  their  lan- 
guage. The  people  of  the  Doddington  remarked 
that  he  was  treated  as  a  servant,  that  the  savages 
sent  him  on  their  errands  and  sometimes  did  not  al- 
low him  to  eat  with  them,  but  that  he  waited  until 
the  end  of  the  repast  before  making  his  own." 


CHAPTER  VII 

FOUR  THOUSAND   MILES   IN   AN   OPEN   BOAT 

OF  all  the  stories  of  blue  water  there  is  none  so 
romantic  and  well  remembered  as  that  of  the 
mutineers  of  the  Bounty  who  sought  an  Arcadia  in 
the  South  Seas,  and  found  it  on  Pitcairn  Island, 
where  their  descendants  to-day  welcome  the  occa- 
sional ship  that  stops  in  passing.  In  1787,  ten  years 
after  Captain  Cook  had  been  slain  by  the  natives  of 
Hawaii,  a  group  of  West  India  merchants  in  Lon- 
don, whose  interest  was  stirred  by  the  glowing  re- 
ports of  the  discoverers,  urged  the  Government  to 
explore  the  natural  resources  of  those  enchanted 
realms  of  the  Pacific  and  particularly  to  transport 
the  breadfruit  tree  to  Jamaica  and  plant  it  there. 
The  ship  Bounty  was  accordingly  fitted  out,  and 
sailed  in  command  of  Lieutenant  William  Bligh, 
who  had  been  one  of  Cook's  officers.  After  the 
long  voyage  to  Tahiti,  the  ship  tarried  there  five 
months  while  the  hold  was  filled  with  tropical  trees 
and  shrubs.  With  every  prospect  of  success,  the 
Bounty  hove  anchor  and  sheeted  topsails  to  roll  out 
homeward  bound. 

160 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         161 

Every  sturdy  British  sailor  was  leaving  a  sweet- 
heart on  the  beach  of  langurous  Tahiti,  where  the 
unspoiled,  brown-skinned  women  were  as  kind  as 
they  were  beautiful,  and  where  every  dream  of  hap- 
piness was  attainable.  These  were  the  first  white 
men  who  had  ever  lingered  to  form  sentimental  at- 
tachments in  that  fortunate  isle,  and  they  left  it 
reluctantly  to  endure  the  bitter  toil  and  tyranny 
that  were  the  mariner's  lot. 

Nor  was  Lieutenant  Bligh  a  commander  to  soothe 
their  discontent.  His  own  narrative  would  lead 
you  to  infer  that  his  conduct  was  blameless,  but 
other  evidence  convicts  him  of  a  harsh  and  inflexible 
temper  and  a  lack  of  tact  which  helped  to  bring 
about  the  disaster  that  was  brewing  in  the  forecastle 
and  among  the  groups  of  seamen  who  loafed  and 
whispered  on  deck  during  the  dog-watches.  The 
explosive  crises  of  life  are  very  often  touched  off  by 
the  merest  trifles  and  a  few  cocoanuts  appear  to 
have  played  a  part  in  the  melodramatic  upheaval 
of  the  Bounty's  crew.  Boatswain's  Mate  James 
Morrison  kept  a  journal  in  which  he  set  down  that 
Lieutenant  Bligh  missed  some  of  his  own  personal 
cocoanuts,  which  had  been  stowed  between  the  guns. 

The  sailors  solemnly  denied  stealing  them,  and 
the  irate  commander  questioned  Fletcher  Christian, 
the  master's  mate,  who  indignantly  protested: 


162     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

"I  do  not  know  who  took  your  cocoanuts,  sir,  but 
I  hope  you  do  not  think  me  so  mean  as  to  be  guilty 
of  pilfering  them." 

Lieutenant  Bligh,  who  was  red  in  the  face  and 
hot  under  the  collar,  burst  out  in  this  most  unlucky 
tirade: 

"Yes,  you  hound,  I  do ;  you  must  have  stolen  them 
from  me,  or  you  would  be  able  to  give  a  better  ac- 
count of  them.  You  are  all  thieves,  you  scoundrels, 
and  the  officers  combine  with  the  men  to  rob  me. 
I  suppose  you  will  steal  my  yams  next,  but  I  '11 
make  you  sweat  for  it,  you  rascals,  if  I  have  to  make 
half  of  you  jump  overboard  before  we  get  through 
Endeavor  Straits." 

This  is  one  of  the  stories  told  by  the  boatswain's 
mate  to  extenuate  the  mutiny,  and  it  may  be  taken 
for  what  it  is  worth,  though  with  so  much  smoke, 
there  was  sure  to  be  flame.  At  any  rate,  it  was  only 
a  day  after  the  cocoanut  episode  that  Fletcher 
Christian,  the  master's  mate,  led  the  famous  rebel- 
lion of  the  Bounty.  He  was  a  leader  of  extraordi- 
nary intelligence  and  character  who  had  always  led 
a  godly  life.  Commander  Bligh  had  provoked  him 
beyond  endurance,  and  he  was  persuaded  that  he 
could  lead  his  comrades  to  a  palm-shaded  kingdom 
where  they  would  be  safe  against  discovery  and 
capture. 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES        163 

No  inkling  of  the  conspiracy  was  conveyed  to  the 
quarterdeck,  and  Bligh  wrote,  after  the  event: 

The  women  of  Tahiti  are  handsome,  mild,  and  cheerful 
in  manners  and  conversation,  possessed  of  great  sensibil- 
ity, and  have  sufficient  delicacy  to  make  them  admired  and 
beloved.  The  chiefs  were  so  much  attached  to  our  peo- 
ple that  they  rather  encouraged  their  stay  among  them 
than  otherwise  and  even  made  them  promises  of  large  pos- 
sessions. Under  these  circumstances  it  ought  hardly  to 
be  the  subject  of  surprise  that  a  set  of  sailors,  most  of 
them  without  home  ties,  should  be  led  away  where  they  had 
the  power  of  fixing  themselves  in  the  midst  of  plenty  and 
where  there  was  no  necessity  to  labor  and  where  the  allure- 
ments to  dissipation  are  beyond  any  conception  that  can 
be  formed  of  it.  The  utmost,  however,  that  a  commander 
could  have  expected  was  desertions,  such  as  have  always 
happened  more  or  less  in  the  South  Seas,  and  not  this  act 
of  open  mutiny,  the  secrecy  of  which  was  beyond  belief. 

It  was  a  bloodless  uprising  and  conducted  with 
singular  neatness  and  despatch.  At  sunrise  of 
April  28,  1789,  Fletcher  Christian  and  an  armed 
guard  entered  the  commander's  cabin  and  hauled 
him  out  of  bed  in  his  night-shirt.  His  arms  were 
bound,  and  he  was  led  on  deck,  where  he  observed 
that  some  of  his  men  were  hoisting  out  a  boat. 
Those  of  the  ship's  company  who  had  remained 
loyal,  seventeen  officers  and  men,  were  already 
clapped  under  hatches  to  await  their  turn  in  the 
very  orderly  program.  A  few  of  the  mutineers 


164     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

damned  the  commander  to  his  face  and  growled 
threats  at  him,  but  this  was  by  way  of  squaring  per- 
sonal grudges,  and  he  was  not  otherwise  mistreated. 

The  boat  was  lowered  and  outfitted  with  twine, 
canvas,  cordage,  an  eight-and-twenty  gallon  cask  of 
water,  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  bread,  or  ship's 
biscuit,  a  little  rum  and  wine,  some  salt  pork  and 
beef,  a  quadrant,  a  compass,  and  four  cutlasses  for 
arms.  The  seventeen  loyal  mariners  were  bundled 
overside,  but  Lieutenant  Bligh  hung  back  to  argue 
the  matter  until  Fletcher  Christian  roughly  ex- 
claimed : 

"Come,  Captain  Bligh,  your  officers  and  men  are 
now  in  the  boat  and  you  must  go  with  them.  If  you 
attempt  to  make  the  least  resistance,  you  will  be 
instantly  put  to  death." 

The  commander  of  the  Bounty  was  in  no  mood 
to  carry  it  off  with  a  high  hand.  He  implored  the 
master's  mate  to  forego  the  mad  enterprise,  and 
pledged  his  honor  that  if  the  men  would  return  to 
duty  he  would  make  no  report  of  it  in  England. 
He  spoke  of  his  own  wife  and  children  and  the 
mercy  due  on  their  account,  but  Fletcher  Christian 
cut  him  short  and  cried: 

"I  say  no,  no,  Captain  Bligh.  If  you  had  any 
honor  or  manly  feeling  in  your  breast,  things  had 
not  come  to  this.  Your  wife  and  family !  Had  you 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         165 

any  regard  for  them,  you  would  have  thought  of 
them  before  now  and  not  behaved  so  like  a  villain. 
I  have  been  used  like  a  dog  all  this  voyage  and  am 
determined  to  bear  it  no  longer.  On  you  must  rest 
the  consequences." 

This  ended  the  argument,  and  the  boat  was  soon 
cast  adrift,  while  the  mutineers  shouted  a  cheery 
farewell,  and  then  roared  out  "Huzza  for  Tahiti!" 
while  the  Bounty  swung  off  and  filled  away  with  a 
pleasant  breeze.  Lieutenant  Bligh  assumed  that  it 
was  the  deliberate  intent  to  leave  him  to  perish, 
because  dead  men  tell  no  tales ;  but  if  this  were  true, 
the  mutineers  would  not  have  been  so  careful  to 
stock  the  boat  with  food  and  water  and  stores  to  last 
the  party  at  least  a  fortnight  without  severe  hard- 
ship. 

They  were  within  easy  sailing  distance  of  peopled 
islands,  on  some  of  which  they  might  hope  to  find  a 
friendly  reception.  By  drowning  them,  Fletcher 
Christian  could  have  obliterated  all  traces  of  the 
mutiny,  and  the  Bounty  would  have  vanished  from 
human  ken,  gone  to  the  port  of  missing  ships.  So 
infrequented  were  the  islands  of  the  South  Seas  that 
the  mutineers  might  have  lived  and  died  there  un- 
molested and  unsought.  Fletcher  Christian  was 
too  humane  a  man  for  such  a  deed,  the  most  upright 
and  pious  outlaw  that  ever  risked  the  gallows. 


166     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  tale  of  the  Bounty  and  of  the  tragic  fate 
which  overtook  these  rash  and  childlike  wanderers  in 
search  of  Elysium  had  been  familiar  to  later  genera- 
tions, but  the  wonderful  voyage  of  Lieutenant  Bligh 
and  his  exiles  in  the  open  boat  has  been  forgotten 
and  unsung.  Even  to  this  day  it  deserves  to  be 
called  one  of  the  prodigious  adventures  of  seafaring 
history.  A  man  disgraced  and  humiliated  beyond 
expression  by  the  ridiculously  easy  manner  in  which 
his  ship  had  been  taken  from  him,  Bligh  superbly 
redeemed  himself  and  wiped  the  stain  from  his 
record  by  keeping  his  open  boat  afloat  and  his  men 
alive  through  a  voyage  and  an  experience  unequaled 
before  or  since. 

The  boat  was  a  small,  undecked  ship's  yawl  only 
twenty -three  feet  long,  such  as  one  may  see  hanging 
from  a  schooner's  davits.  Eighteen  men  were 
crowded  upon  the  thwarts,  and  their  weight  sank  her 
almost  to  the  gunwale.  They  were  adrift  in  an 
unknown  ocean  which  teemed  with  uncharted  reefs 
and  perils,  there  was  only  a  few  days'  supply  of  food 
and  water,  and  four  cutlasses  were  the  weapons 
against  hostile  attack.  In  the  boat,  besides  Com- 
mander Bligh,  were  the  master,  the  acting  surgeon, 
botanist,  gunner,  boatswain,  carpenter,  three  mates, 
two  quartermasters,  the  sail-maker,  two  cooks,  the 
ship's  clerk,  the  butcher,  and  a  boy. 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         167 

After  watching  the  faithless  Bounty  until  she 
gleamed  like  a  bit  of  cloud,  the  refugees  shoved  out 
their  oars  and  pulled  in  the  direction  of  the  nearest 
island,  Tofa,  about  forty  miles  distant.  A  slant  of 
wind  presently  favored  them,  and  they  hoisted  sail, 
bowling  along  until  they  were  able  to  drop  anchor 
outside  the  barrier  of  surf  soon  after  nightfall  of  the 
same  day. 

Next  morning  they  landed  in  a  cove  and  found 
natives  who  seemed  amiable  enough  and  who  sup- 
plied them  with  cocoanuts,  plantains,  breadfruit, 
and  water.  The  humor  of  these  temperamental 
islanders  changed  without  warning,  however,  and  in 
a  sudden  attack  with  stones  and  spears  they  killed 
one  of  the  quartermasters.  This  dissuaded  Bligh 
from  his  plan  of  cruising  from  one  island  to  another 
and  so  making  his  way  to  civilization.  He  told  his 
men  that  he  purposed  to  attempt  to  make  no  more 
landings,  but  to  steer  for  the  Dutch  East  Indies  and 
the  port  of  Timor,  almost  four  thousand  miles  away. 
In  those  wild  seas  there  was  no  nearer  haven  where 
they  might  hope  to  find  Europeans  and  a  ship  to 
carry  them  home  to  England. 

In  the  confusion  of  escaping  from  Tofa,  they  lost 
most  of  the  fruit  which  had  been  taken  on  there,  and 
so  they  set  sail  with  just  about  the  amount  of  stores 
with  which  they  had  been  set  adrift  from  the 


168     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Bounty,  but  with  one  less  man  to  feed.  They  were 
so  cramped  for  space  in  the  yawl  that  Bligh  divided 
them  into  watches,  and  half  the  men  sat  upon  the 
cross-seats  while  the  others  lay  down  in  the  bottom, 
and  every  two  hours  they  exchanged  places.  The 
bread  was  stowed  in  the  carpenter's  tool-chest,  and 
all  the  provisions  were  scrupulously  guarded  by  sen- 
tries. 

There  were  no  symptoms  of  mutiny  in  this  com- 
pany. Bligh  had  found  himself,  and  he  ruled  them 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  They  were  willing  and  obedi- 
ent, realizing  that  this  imperious,  unshaken  com- 
mander was  their  only  hope  of  winning  against  the 
odds  which  loomed  black  against  them.  Timor  was 
merely  a  name  to  them.  Some  of  them  did  not  even 
know  where  it  was,  but  they  had  implicit  faith  in 
Lieutenant  William  Bligh. 

The  carpenter  whittled  for  him  a  pair  of  scales 
and  some  musket-balls  were  found  in  the  boat. 
These  were  known  to  weigh  twenty-five  to  the 
pound  of  sixteen  ounces.  In  order  to  make  the  pro- 
visions last  as  long  as  possible,  three  meals  a  day 
were  served,  and  each  consisted  of  a  musket-ball's 
weight  of  bread,  an  ounce  of  pork,  and  a  teaspoonf  ul 
of  rum  in  a  quarter  of  a  pint  of  water.  If  you 
should  be  curious  enough  to  measure  out  such  a 
repast  for  yourself  and  try  living  on  it  for  a  few 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         169 

days  only,  I  have  no  doubt  that  your  weight  would 
be  reduced  more  rapidly  than  any  high-priced 
specialist  in  dietetics  could  possibly  achieve  for  you. 
A  twenty-fifth  of  a  pound  of  hard  bread  would  not 
much  more  than  satisfy  the  appetite  of  a  vigorous 
canary  bird.  Yet  these  seventeen  men  lived  on  it 
and  stayed  alive  for  weeks  and  weeks.  Heavy 
rains  came  to  give  them  more  water,  but  thirst  was 
a  continual  torment,  so  sparingly  and  prudently  did 
Lieutenant  Bligh  dole  out  the  precious  fluid. 

They  passed  within  sight  of  many  islands,  green 
and  smiling,  and  smoke  wreathed  skyward  from  na- 
tive camps  and  villages,  but  Bligh  sternly  checked 
his  men  when  they  yearned  to  seek  the  land  and  a 
respite  from  the  merciless  sea.  With  him  it  was 
Timor  or  die,  and  in  the  lonely  watches  he  recalled 
that  previous  voyage  with  Captain  Cook,  when  the 
great  navigator  was  lured  to  his  death  by  the  soft- 
voiced,  garlanded  people  of  Oahu.  And  so  the 
open  boat  flitted  past  the  mysterious  beaches  and 
lagoons  of  the  New  Hebrides  and  veered  farther 
seaward  to  give  a  wide  berth  to  the  savage  coast  of 
New  Guinea.  After  one  of  the  numerous  storms 
which  almost  swamped  them,  Bligh  noted  in  his 
diary: 

I  found  every  person  complaining  and  some  of  them  re- 
quested extra  allowance.     I  positively  refused.     Our  sit- 


170     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

uation  was  miserable,  always  wet  and  suffering  extreme 
cold  in  the  night,  without  the  least  shelter  from  the 
weather.  Being  constantly  compelled  to  bale  the  boat  to 
keep  her  from  filling  perhaps  should  not  have  been  reck- 
oned an  evil  because  it  gave  us  exercise.  Our  appearance 
was  shocking  and  several  of  my  people  seemed  half-dead. 
I  could  look  no  way  without  catching  the  eye  of  some  one 
in  distress.  The  little  sleep  we  got  was  in  the  midst  of 
water  and  we  always  awoke  with  severe  cramps  and  pains 
in  our  bones. 

This  was  on  May  22,  or  eighteen  days  after  they 
had  left  the  island  of  Tofa,  during  most  of  which 
time  there  had  been  drenching  rains  and  somber 
skies  and  heavy  seas,  which  broke  into  the  boat  and 
almost  swamped  her  time  and  again.  The  seven- 
teen men  were  still  existing  on  the  morsels  of  bread 
and  pork  carefully  weighed  out  with  the  musket- 
ball,  which  they  said  was  "little  better  than  starv- 
ing," but  Bligh  held  them  in  hand,  and  there  was  no 
rebellion  even  when  he  explained  that  the  system  of 
rationing  would  permit  them  to  exist  for  twenty- 
nine  days  longer,  though  he  was  not  at  all  certain 
that  they  could  fetch  Timor  in  that  time,  and  he  pur- 
posed to  make  the  stores  hold  out  for  six  weeks. 

In  order  to  do  that  they  would  have  to  omit  their 
supper  and  get  along  on  two  meals  of  a  twenty-fifth 
of  a  pound  of  bread.  "I  was  apprehensive  that  a 
proposal  on  this  head  would  be  ill  received,"  Lieu- 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         171 

tenant  Bligh  commented,  "and  that  it  would  require 
my  utmost  resolution  to  enforce  it.  However,  on 
representing  to  the  people  the  necessity  of  guarding 
against  casual  delays,  from  adverse  winds,  and  other 
causes,  they  all  cheerfully  assented." 

There  was  never  a  more  methodical  man  than  this 
Lieutenant  William  Bligh.  When  they  caught  a 
couple  of  boobies,  sea-fowl  as  large  as  a  duck,  the 
bodies  were  divided  into  seventeen  portions,  and  one 
man  was  detailed  to  turn  his  back  while  another 
pointed  at  the  pieces  and  asked,  "Who  is  to  have 
this?"  The  first  sailor  named  a  companion  at  ran- 
dom, and  drew  the  fragment  designated.  In  this 
manner  a  fair  distribution  was  assured,  and  the  man 
who  drew  the  feet  of  the  bird  to  chew  could  have  no 
quarrel  with  the  lucky  sailor  who  got  a  bit  of  the 
breast. 

Bligh  was  a  capable  navigator  with  the  quadrant 
and  compass  which  the  mutineers  had  given  him  and 
he  was  driving  for  a  passage  to  the  southward  of 
Endeavor  Straits  and  an  offing  on  the  coast  of  New 
Holland,  as  Australia  was  then  called.  His  crew 
was  exceedingly  low-spirited,  but  he  diverted  them 
with  the  hope  of  finding  smoother  water  inside  the 
far-flung  reefs  and  a  landing  where  they  might  eat 
fresh  fruits  and  ease  their  weary  bones  for  a  little 
while. 


172     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

After  three  weeks  of  misery,  this  speck  of  an  open 
boat  in  a  trackless  waste  of  ocean  descried  the 
wooded  headlands  of  New  Holland  and  a  surf  which 
beat  against  the  outer  ramparts  of  coral.  They 
found  an  opening  and  rowed  into  a  lagoon,  where 
they  hauled  the  boat  out  upon  the  white  sand  and 
feasted  luxuriously  on  oysters.  These  they  roasted 
in  a  fire  which  Lieutenant  Bligh  kindled  with  a  lens 
of  his  spy-glass.  Then  they  cooked  a  stew,  and 
were  so  mightily  refreshed  that  "all  retained 
strength  and  fortitude  sufficient  to  resist  what  might 
be  expected  in  our  voyage  to  Timor." 

Two  or  three  days  of  assiduous  attention  to  the 
oysters,  and  they  were  ready  to  put  to  sea  again, 
with  water-breakers  filled.  Before  they  shoved  off, 
Bligh  directed  all  hands  to  attend  prayers;  so  they 
knelt  on  the  beach  with  bared  heads  while  he  read 
service  from  the  Church  of  England  prayer-book. 
A  group  of  natives,  black  and  naked,  came  scamper- 
ing out  of  the  forest  just  as  the  boat  took  the  water, 
but  there  was  no  clash  with  them. 

As  they  steered  through  the  mazes  of  the  Malay 
Archipelago,  many  small  islands  swam  in  the  seas 
of  azure  and  emerald,  and  they  ventured  to  land 
again.  Here  Bligh  had  the  first  trouble  with  the 
tempers  of  his  sick  and  weary  men.  "When  or- 
dered to  go  scouting  for  food,  one  of  them  went  so 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         173 

far  as  to  tell  me,  with  a  mutinous  look,  that  he  was 
as  good  a  man  as  myself,"  relates  this  inflexible  com- 
mander who  had  made  such  a  sorry  mess  of  things  in 
the  Bounty.  He  added : 

"It  was  impossible  for  me  to  judge  where  this  might  end, 
therefore  to  prevent  such  disputes  in  future  I  determined 
either  to  preserve  my  authority  or  die  in  the  attempt. 
Seizing  a  cutlass  I  ordered  him  to  take  hold  of  another 
and  defend  himself ;  on  which  he  cried  out  that  I  was  going 
to  kill  him  and  immediately  made  concessions.  I  did  not 
allow  this  to  interfere  further  with  the  harmony  of  the 
boat's  crew  and  everything  soon  became  quiet." 

For  a  week  they  coasted  along  New  Holland  in 
this  manner  before  risking  the  open  sea  again. 
They  caught  some  turtle  and  went  ashore  at  night  to 
hunt  the  noddies,  or  sea-birds,  and  knock  them  over 
on  their  nests.  One  of  the  sailors,  Robert  Lamb, 
stole  away  from  his  companions,  contrary  to  orders, 
and  blundered  into  the  birds,  which  fled  away. 
Much  provoked,  Bligh  gave  the  culprit  a  drubbing 
and  made  him  confess  that  he  had  eaten  nine  noddies 
raw.  It  goes  without  saying  that  greedy  Robert 
Lamb  promised  not  to  do  it  again. 

Much  more  sanguine  of  some  day  reaching  the 
destination  of  Timor,  the  argonauts  endured  an- 
other long  stretch  of  the  voyage,  almost  two  thou- 
sand miles  more,  but  it  was  fast  breaking  the 


174     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

strength  which  they  had  so  amazingly  displayed. 
Surgeon  Ledward  and  Lawrence  Lebogue,  a  hardy 
old  salt,  seemed  to  have  come  to  the  end,  and  Bligh 
nursed  them  with  teaspoonfuls  of  wine  and  crumbs 
of  bread  that  he  had  been  saving  for  such  emergen- 
cies. He  now  began  to  fear  that  the  party  could 
not  survive  to  finish  the  voyage,  and  mentioned  that 

extreme  weakness,  swelled  legs,  hollow  and  ghastly  counte- 
nances, with  an  apparent  debility  of  understanding,  seemed 
to  me  the  melancholy  presages  of  approaching  dissolution. 
The  boatswain  very  innocently  told  me  that  he  really 
thought  I  looked  worse  than  any  one  in  the  boat.  I  was 
amused  by  the  simplicity  with  which  he  uttered  such  an 
opinion  and  returned  him  a  better  compliment. 

It  was  not  decreed  by  destiny  that  courage  and 
endurance  so  heroic  should  be  thwarted  in  the  last 
gasp.  Forty-one  days  after  they  had  so  boldly  set 
out  from  Tofa  in  the  South  Seas  they  made  a  land- 
fall on  the  dim  and  misty  shore  of  the  island  of 
Timor.  The  log  recorded  a  total  distance  sailed 
of  3618  nautical  miles,  which  in  round  numbers 
amounts  to  four  thousand  land,  or  statute,  miles. 
No  wonder  that  the  feat  appeared  scarcely  credible 
to  these  castaways  themselves  whom  the  mutineers 
of  the  Bounty  had  turned  adrift  with  no  more  than 
a  fortnight's  provisions  in  a  fearfully  overcrowded 
open  boat.  And  every  man  of  the  seventeen  was 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         175 

alive  and  ready  to  be  patched  up  and  set  on  his  feet 
again. 

Bligh  had  no  idea  where  the  Dutch  settlements 
were,  so  he  held  on  along  the  coast,  past  very  lovely 
landscapes  of  mountain,  woodland,  and  park-like 
spaces.  Coming  to  a  large  bay,  he  tacked  in  and 
saw  a  little  village  of  thatched  huts.  Natives  pad- 
dled out  to  meet  the  boat  and  told  the  party  where 
to  find  the  Dutch  governor  of  Timor.  In  the  next 
harbor  they  discovered  two  square-rigged  vessels,  so 
they  hoisted  the  union  jack  as  a  distress-signal,  and 
anchored  off  the  fort  and  town  of  Coupang.  This 
was  the  end  of  their  troubles.  Bligh  bought  a  small 
schooner  from  the  courteous  Dutch  governor,  and 
so  carried  his  men  to  Samarang,  where  they  found 
passage  to  Batavia,  and  were  sent  home  in  a  Dutch 
East  Indiaman. 

It  was  Commander  Bligh  himself  who  took  to 
England  the  first  tidings  of  the  mutiny  of  the 
Bounty,  which  aroused  great  popular  interest  and 
indignation.  In  1790  he  published  an  account  of 
his  sufferings  and  the  heroic  voyage  to  Timor,  and 
in  response  to  the  public  clamor  the  Admiralty 
speedily  fitted  out  the  frigate  Pandora  to  hunt 
down  Fletcher  Christian  and  his  fellow-criminals 
and  fetch  them  home  for  trial  and  punishment. 
The  voyage  of  the  Pandora  resulted  in  tragic  ship- 


176     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

wreck  and  another  sensational  episode  of  open 
boats.  As  a  sequel  it  is  inseparable  from  the 
strange  and  unhappy  romance  of  the  Bounty  and 
her  people. 

Captain  Edwards  of  the  Pandora  frigate  was  a 
martinet  of  a  naval  officer,  without  sympathy  or 
imagination,  and  the  witchery  of  the  South  Seas 
held  no  lure  for  him.  His  errand  was  to  run  down 
the  mutineers  as  outlaws  who  deserved  no  mercy 
and  to  take  them  home  to  be  hanged. 

First  touching  at  Tahiti,  the  Pandora  found  that 
a  number  of  the  sentimental  sinners  still  remained 
on  that  island,  but  that  Fletcher  Christian  and  the 
rest  had  sailed  away  in  the  Bounty  to  search  for  a 
retreat  elsewhere.  With  a  hundred  and  fifty  blue- 
jackets to  rake  the  valleys  and  beaches  of  Tahiti, 
Captain  Edwards  soon  rounded  up  fourteen  fugi- 
tives, who  were  marched  aboard  the  Pandora  and 
clapped  into  irons. 

A  small  house  was  knocked  together  on  deck  to 
serve  as  a  jail  for  them,  and  was  rightly  enough 
dubbed  "Pandora's  Box"  by  the  sailors.  It  was 
only  eleven  feet  long,  without  windows  or  doors, 
and  was  entered  by  a  scuttle  in  the  roof.  In  this 
inhuman  little  den  the  fourteen  mutineers  were  kept 
with  their  arms  and  legs  in  irons,  which  were  never 


EARLY  AMERICAN  SHIP  OF  THE  18TH  CENTURY 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         177 

removed  to  permit  exercise.  Sweltering  in  a  tropi- 
cal climate,  the  wonder  is  that  they  did  not  perish 
to  a  man. 

There  was  suffering  far  worse  to  endure,  however 
—the  anguish  of  broken  hearts.  All  of  these  men 
were  torn  from  the  native  wives  to  whom  they 
had  been  faithful  and  true,  and  their  infants  were 
left  fatherless.  Pitiful  was  the  story  of  "Peggy," 
the  beautiful  Tahitian  girl  who  was  beloved  by  Mid- 
shipman Stewart  of  the  mutineers  and  to  whom  she 
had  borne  a  child.  She  was  allowed  to  visit  him 
in  the  wretched  deck-house  of  the  Pandora,  but  her 
grief  was  so  violent  that  she  had  to  be  taken  ashore 
by  force,  and  the  young  husband  begged  the  officers 
not  to  let  her  see  him  again. 

The  light  of  her  life  had  gone  out,  and  she  died 
of  sorrow  a  few  months  later,  leaving  her  infant 
son  as  the  first  half-caste  born  in  Tahiti.  Six  years 
after  this,  a  band  of  pioneering  English  missionaries 
visited  Tahiti  and  heard  of  the  boy  and  his  story. 
They  took  this  orphan  of  British  blood  under  their 
own  care  and  brought  him  up  and  educated  him. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  Captain  Edwards  isolated 
his  prisoners  and  treated  them  so  harshly  because  of 
his  fear  that  the  bluejackets  of  his  frigate  might  be 
stirred  to  a  sympathetic  mutiny  of  their  own.  It 


178     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

must  have  wrung  the  hearts  of  these  honest  British 
tars,  who  had  sweethearts  waiting  at  the  end  of  the 
long  road  home,  when,  as  the  story  runs : 

The  families  of  the  captives  were  allowed  to  visit  them, 
a  permission  which  gave  rise  to  the  most  affecting  scenes. 
Every  day  the  wives  came  down  with  their  infants  in  their 
arms,  the  fathers  weeping  over  their  babes  who  were  soon 
to  be  bereft  of  paternal  care  and  protection,  and  husband 
and  wife  mingling  cries  and  tears  at  the  prospect  of  so  ca- 
lamitous a  separation. 

The  fourteen  mutineers  had  built  a  little  schooner 
only  thirty-five  feet  long,  in  which  they  were  hop- 
ing to  flee  to  an  island  more  remote,  but  the  Pan- 
dora swooped  down  before  they  were  quite  ready  to 
embark.  Captain  Edwards  seized  this  vessel  to  use 
as  a  tender,  and  manned  her  with  two  petty  officers 
and  seven  sailors,  who  sailed  away  on  a  cruise  of 
their  own  to  assist  in  the  search  for  the  rest  of  the 
pirates,  as  they  were  called.  The  voyage  of  this 
tiny  cock-boat  of  a  schooner  is  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable tales  in  the  history  of  South  Sea  discov- 
ery, but  not  even  a  diary  or  log  remains  to  relate 
it  in  detail. 

These  adventurers  were  the  first  white  men  to 
set  foot  on  the  great  group  of  the  Fiji  Islands, 
which  Tasman  and  Cook  had  passed  by.  The  ex- 
ploit is  sung  to  this  day  in  one  of  the  poems  of  the 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         179 

Fijian  language  which  have  handed  down  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  race  from  father  to  son.  The  little 
schooner  was  never  seen  again  by  the  Pandora  after 
they  parted  at  Tahiti  to  go  their  separate  ways ;  but 
after  many  months  the  master's  mate,  the  bold  mid- 
shipman, and  the  seven  handy  seamen  who  com- 
prised the  crew  came  sailing  into  the  Dutch  East 
Indies. 

The  Pandora  ransacked  the  South  Seas  in  vain 
for  Fletcher  Christian  and  his  party,  and  turned 
homeward  after  nine  months  of  cruising  on  this 
quest.  Having  cleared  the  coast  of  New  Guinea, 
the  frigate  crashed  into  the  Great  Barrier  Reef 
while  trying  to  find  a  passage  through,  and  found- 
ered after  eleven  hours  of  endeavor  to  keep  her 
afloat  by  pumping.  The  discipline  was  admirable, 
and  in  the  ship's  dying  flurry  four  boats  were  filled 
and  sent  away,  besides  some  rafts  and  canoes. 

During  those  long  hours,  however,  while  the  sail- 
ors were  trying  to  save  themselves  and  the  frigate, 
the  hapless  mutineers  were  left  in  the  "Pandora's 
Box,"  in  leg-irons  and  manacles  and  utterly  help- 
less. Three  of  them  were  finally  allowed  to  work 
at  the  pumps,  still  wearing  their  chains,  but  Captain 
Edwards  paid  no  heed  to  the  prayers  of  the  others, 
who  foresaw  they  were  to  drown  like  rats  in  a  trap. 
It  was  inhumanity  almost  beyond  belief,  for  these 


180    LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

prisoners  could  not  have  escaped  if  they  had  been 
released  and  allowed  to  swim  for  it  with  the  rest  of 
the  crew. 

His  own  officers  and  men  interceded  and  begged 
permission  to  knock  the  shackles  off  the  mutineers 
before  the  ship  went  down,  but  Captain  Edwards 
threatened  to  shoot  the  first  man  who  interfered 
with  his  orders,  and  to  kill  any  of  the  captives  who 
attempted  to  free  themselves.  He  was  the  type  of 
officer  who  is  blindly,  densely  zealous  and  regards 
the  letter  of  the  law  as  to  be  obeyed  under  all  cir- 
cumstances. The  Admiralty  had  told  him  to  bring 
these  fugitives  back  to  England  in  chains.  This 
settled  the  matter  for  him. 

When  the  Pandora  was  about  to  plunge  under,  a 
council  of  officers  formally  decided  "that  nothing 
more  could  be  done  for  the  preservation  of  His 
Majesty's  ship."  The  command  was  then  given  to 
quit  her  before  she  carried  the  crew  to  the  bottom, 
but  even  then  two  sentries  of  the  Royal  Marines 
guarded  the  scuttle  of  "Pandora's  Box"  with  in- 
structions to  shoot  if  the  mutineers  tried  to  smash 
their  irons. 

The  master-at-arms  was  a  man  with  a  heart,  as 
well  as  a  ready  wit,  and  as  he  scrambled  over  the 
roof  of  the  deck-house  with  the  sea  racing  at  his 
heels,  he  dropped  his  bunch  of  keys  through  the 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES         181 

open  scuttle.  The  frantic  prisoners  heard  the  keys 
fall  and  knew  what  they  meant.  In  semi-darkness, 
with  the  water  gurgling  over  the  floor  of  their  pen, 
they  strove  to  fit  the  keys  to  the  heavy  handcuffs 
and  the  chains  that  were  locked  about  their  legs.  It 
is  a  scene  that  requires  no  more  words  to  appeal  to 
the  emotions  a  hundred  and  thirty  years  after  these 
unhappy  British  sailors  fought  their  last  fight  for 
life. 

Ten  of  them  succeded  in  releasing  themselves  and 
were  washed  off  into  the  sea,  where  the  boats  were 
kind  enough  to  pick  them  up,  but  four  of  the  muti- 
neers were  drowned  with  the  ship,  still  wearing  the 
irons  from  which  Captain  Edwards  had  refused  to 
free  them.  It  is  probable  that  with  the  bunch  of 
keys  which  the  master-at-arms  had  dropped 
among  them  these  four  men  had  died  while  doing 
unto  others  as  they  would  have  been  done  by.  It 
was  almost  impossible  for  a  prisoner  so  heavily 
manacled  to  fit  a  key  in  the  padlock  that  bound  his 
own  wrists  together.  One  comrade  helped  another, 
perhaps,  and  so  those  who  awaited  their  turn  were 
doomed  to  die.  And  thus  they  redeemed  the  folly 
and  the  crime  of  that  fantastic  adventure  in  the 
Bounty. 

Thirty  men  of  the  Pandora's  company  were  also 
drowned,  but  the  survivors  made  a  successful  voy- 


182     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

age  of  it  in  their  open  boats,  across  a  thousand  miles 
of  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  reached  the  same  Dutch 
port  of  Coupang  where  Lieutenant  William  Bligh 
had  found  refuge.  Here  they  met  the  actors  in 
still  another  thrilling  drama  of  an  open  boat.  A 
party  of  British  convicts,  including  a  woman  and 
two  small  children,  had  stolen  away  from  the  penal 
settlement  of  Port  Jackson  on  the  coast  of  Aus- 
tralia in  a  ship's  gig,  and  had  fled  by  sea  all  the 
way  to  Timor,  living  on  shell-fish  and  seabirds  and 
surviving  ten  weeks  of  exposure  and  peril. 

They  told  the  Dutch  governor  at  Coupang  that 
they  were  castaways  from  an  English  ship,  and  he 
believed  the  tale  until  the  people  of  the  Pandora 
came  into  port.  Assuming  they  were  survivors  of 
the  same  wreck,  a  Dutch  officer  remarked  to  one  of 
the  convicts  that  the  captain  of  their  ship  had 
reached  Coupang.  Caught  off  his  guard,  the  fel- 
low blurted: 

"Dam*  me!     We  have  no  captain." 

The  cat  was  out  of  the  bag,  and  the  slip  proved 
fatal.  Haled  before  the  governor,  the  runaways 
confessed  who  they  really  were.  The  tale  they  told 
was  interwoven  with  a  romance.  The  leader  of  the 
party,  William  Bryant,  had  been  transported  to 
Botany  Bay  for  the  crime  of  smuggling,  and  with 
him  went  his  sweetheart,  Mary  Broad,  who  was  con- 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES        183 

victed  of  helping  him  to  escape  from  Winchester 
Gaol.  They  were  married  by  the  chaplain  of  Bot- 
any Bay,  and  Bryant  was  detailed  to  catch  fish  for 
the  table  of  the  governor  and  other  officials  of  that 
distressful  colony.  It  was  while  employed  as  a 
fisherman  that  he  was  able  to  steal  a  boat  and  plan 
the  escape,  and  they  carried  their  two  children  with 
them. 

His  Excellency,  the  Dutch  governor  of  Timor, 
admired  their  courage,  but  he  could  not  be  turned 
from  his  duty,  and  the  runaway  convicts  were  there- 
fore sent  to  England.  During  the  voyage  William 
Bryant,  the  two  children,  and  three  men  of  the 
party  died,  but  the  woman  lived,  and  so  rapidly  re- 
gained her  bloom  and  beauty  that  before  the 
Gorgon,  East  Indiaman,  sighted  the  forelands  of 
England,  an  officer  of  the  Royal  Marines  had  fallen 
in  love  with  her.  Through  his  efforts  she  was 
granted  a  full  pardon,  and  they  were  wedded  and 
lived  happily  ever  after,  so  far  as  we  know.  Many 
a  novel  has  paraded  a  heroine  less  worthy  than  this 
smuggler's  sweetheart,  Mary  Broad  of  Devonshire 
and  Botany  Bay. 

Of  the  ten  Bounty  mutineers  who  survived  the 
wreck  of  the  Pandora,  five  were  acquitted,  two  re- 
ceived the  king's  pardon,  and  three  were  hanged 
from  a  yard-arm  of  H.  M.  S.  Brunswick  in  Ports- 


184     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

mouth  Harbor  on  October  29,  1792.  Of  Fletcher 
Christian  and  his  companions  who  had  vanished  in 
the  Bounty  nothing  whatever  was  heard  or  known, 
and  England  forgot  all  about  them.  Twenty-five 
years  passed,  and  they  had  become  almost  legend- 
ary, one  of  those  mysteries  which  inspire  the  con- 
jectures and  gossip  of  idle  hours  in  ship's  fore- 
castles. 

In  1813  a  fleet  of  British  merchantmen  sailed  for 
India  convoyed  by  the  frigate  Briton,  Captain  Sir 
Thomas  Staines.  While  passing  the  Marquesas 
group  he  discovered  a  fertile  island  on  which  were 
cultivated  fields  and  a  village  and  people  who  ea- 
gerly paddled  out  in  their  canoes  to  hail  the  frigate. 
The  captain  was  trying  to  shout  a  few  words  of  the 
Marquesan  language  to  them  when  a  stalwart  youth 
called  out  in  perfectly  good  English : 

"What  is  the  ship's  name?  And  who  is  the  com- 
mander, if  you  please?" 

Dumfounded,  the  bluejackets  swarmed  to  the 
bulwark  to  haul  the  visitors  aboard,  and  while  they 
wondered,  the  same  young  man  asked  of  the  quar- 
ter-deck : 

"Do  you  know  Captain  William  Bligh  in  Eng- 
land, and  is  he  still  alive?" 

The  riddle  was  solved.  Captain  Staines  replied 
to  the  courteous,  fair-skinned  stranger: 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES        185 

"Do  you  know  one  Fletcher  Christian  and  where 
is  he?" 

"Yes,  sir.  He  is  dead,  but  there  is  his  son, 
Friday  Fletcher  October  Christian,  just  coming 
aboard  from  the  next  boat.'1 

These  interesting  dwellers  on  Pitcairn  Island 
were  invited  to  breakfast  in  the  ward-room,  "but  be- 
fore sitting  down  to  table  they  fell  on  their  knees 
and  with  uplifted  hands  implored  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  on  the  meal  of  which  they  were  about  to 
partake.  At  the  close  of  the  repast  they  resumed 
the  same  attitude  and  breathed  a  fervent  prayer  of 
thanksgiving  for  the  bounty  which  they  had  just 
experienced." 

Captain  Staines  went  ashore  with  his  guests  and 
found  a  very  beautiful  village,  the  houses  set 
around  a  small  park,  the  streets  immaculately  clean, 
the  whole  aspect  of  it  extraordinarily  attractive. 
There  were  forty-eight  of  these  islanders,  including 
seven  of  the  Tahitian  wives  who  had  been  brought 
in  the  Bounty.  The  others  were  children,  and  fine 
young  men  and  girls.  Of  the  fathers  of  the  flock 
only  one  was  left  alive,  John  Adams,  a  sturdy,  dig- 
nified man  of  sixty,  who  welcomed  Captain  Staines 
and  frankly  revealed  the  whole  story  of  the  Bounty, 
"admitting  that  by  following  the  fortunes  of 
Fletcher  Christian  he  had  lost  every  right  to  his 


186     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

country  and  that  his  life  was  even  forfeited  to  the 
laws.  He  was  now  at  the  head  of  a  little  commun- 
ity by  whom  he  was  adored  and  whom  he  carefully 
instructed  in  the  duties  of  religion,  industry,  and 
friendship." 

It  was  explained  by  John  Adams  that  the  native 
women  had  preferred  the  British  sailors  to  their 
own  suitors,  which  inspired  a  fatal  jealousy,  and 
Fletcher  Christian  and  most  of  his  comrades  had 
been  killed  in  quarrels  and  uprisings  against  them. 
The  few  survivors  had  founded  a  new  race  in  this 
dreamy  island  of  the  South  Seas,  and,  as  Captain 
Staines  perceived,  "a  society  bearing  no  stamp  of 
the  guilty  origin  from  which  it  sprung." 

John  Adams,  the  admirable  counselor  and  ruler, 
had  taught  them  to  use  the  English  tongue  and  to 
cherish  all  that  was  good  in  the  institutions  of  their 
mother  country.  He  had  even  taught  the  children 
to  read  and  write  by  means  of  a  slate  and  a  stone 
pencil.  They  were  a  vigorous,  wholesome  stock, 
sheltered  from  disease  and  vice,  and  with  a  sailor's 
eye  for  a  pretty  girl  Captain  Staines  noted  that 
"the  young  women  had  invariable  beautiful  teeth, 
fine  eyes,  and  an  open  expression  of  countenance, 
with  an  engaging  air  of  simple  innocence  and  sweet 
sensibility." 

The  captain  gave  John  Adams  what  books  and 


FOUR  THOUSAND  MILES        187 

writing-materials  he  could  spare,  and  the  crew  of 
the  frigate  added  many  a  gift  of  clothing  and  useful 
trinkets  from  their  ditty-boxes.  Twelve  years 
passed  before  any  other  word  was  heard  from  Pit- 
cairn  Island,  and  then  the  ship  Blossom  made  a 
call.  It  was  found  that  a  wandering  whaler  had 
left  a  seaman  named  John  Buffet,  who  felt  called 
to  serve  as  schoolmaster  and  clergyman  to  the  grate- 
ful islanders.  England  now  became  interested  in 
this  idyllic  colony,  and  there  was  no  desire  to  recall 
or  avenge  the  mutiny  of  the  Bounty.  John  Ad- 
ams had  long  since  atoned  for  the  misdeeds  of  him- 
self and  his  misguided  shipmates,  and  his  good 
works  were  to  live  after  him. 

In  1830,  H.  M.  S.  Seringapatam  was  sent  out  by 
the  British  Government  to  carry  a  cargo  of  agri- 
cultural implements,  tools,  live-stock,  and  many 
other  things  which  might  increase  the  happiness  and 
well-being  of  the  people  of  Pitcairn  Island.  John 
Adams  had  passed  away  a  little  while  before  that, 
full  of  years  and  honor,  and  it  may  be  safely  as- 
sumed that  he  was  not  logged  on  the  books  of  the 
recording  angel  as  a  mutineer.  The  mantle  of  his 
leadership  fell  upon  the  broad  shoulders  of  Friday 
Fletcher  October  Christian. 

It  was  only  a  year  or  so  ago  that  the  generous 
captain  of  a  freight  steamer  bound  out  across  the 


188     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

South  Pacific  wrote  a  letter  to  a  New  York  news- 
paper to  inform  the  public  that  he  would  be  glad 
to  go  out  of  his  course  to  touch  at  Pitcairn  Island 
and  leave  any  books  or  other  gifts  which  might  be 
sent  in  his  care.  It  was  near  the  Christmas  season, 
and  the  spirit  moved  him  to  play  Santa  Claus  to  the 
people  of  that  happy  island  whose  forefathers  were 
the  mutineers  of  the  Bounty  in  the  year  of  1789. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FRIGATES   THAT   VANISHED   IN    THE   SOUTH    SEAS 

WHEN  our  forefathers  were  fighting  in  the 
Revolution,  which  was  not  so  very  long 
ago  in  history,  the  world  was  a  vastly  entertaining 
place  for  a  man  who  loved  to  wander  in  quest  of 
bold  adventures.  Nowadays  the  unknown  seas 
have  all  been  charted,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  realize 
that  a  great  part  of  the  watery  globe  was  unex- 
plored and  trackless  when  George  Washington  led 
his  ragged  Continentals.  There  were  no  lean, 
hard-bitted  Australian  troops  to  rally  to  the  call  of 
the  mother  country  when  England  was  fighting 
most  of  Europe  as  well  as  the  American  Colonies, 
because  not  a  solitary  Briton  had  then  set  foot  upon 
the  mighty  continent  of  the  South  Pacific. 

For  three  centuries  the  high-pooped  merchant 
ships  and  the  roving  buccaneers  of  all  flags  had  been 
sailing  on  the  trade  routes  to  the  New  World  and 
to  the  East  Indies,  but  scarcely  a  solitary  keel  had 
furrowed  the  immense  expanse  of  blue  water  which 
is  called  the  South  Seas.  Daring  traders  as  were 

189 


190     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  old  skippers  of  Salem,  it  was  not  until  1811  that 
the  first  of  them,  in  the  bark  Active,  bartered  a 
cargo  with  the  Fiji  Islanders,  and  he  was  only  four 
years  later  than  the  pioneer  ship  of  the  British  East 
India  Company. 

In  the  rivalry  for  the  honors  of  discovery,  France 
was  moved  by  the  desire  to  continue  on  the  sea  the 
illustrious  traditions  of  her  great  explorers  who  had 
won  empire  in  North  America.  The  peace  of  Ver- 
sailles in  1783  had  ended  her  conflict  with  England, 
and  although  that  absurd  blockhead  of  a  monarch, 
Louis  XVI,  was  far  more  interested  in  exploring 
the  menu  of  his  next  meal,  there  were  noble  spirits 
eager  to  win  victories  in  peace  as  well  as  in  war,  and 
they  persuaded  the  ministry  to  send  a  splendidly 
equipped  expedition  to  the  mysterious  Pacific  and 
the  legendary  coasts  of  Asia.  Their  choice  of  a 
leader  was  Captain  Jean-Fran9ois  de  Galaup, 
Comte  de  la  Perouse,  soldier  and  sailor,  who  had 
proved  his  mettle  by  destroying  the  Hudson's  Bay 
posts  as  an  act  of  war,  and  thereby  wringing  with 
anguish  the  hearts  of  the  directors  of  that  opulent 
British  company. 

La  Perouse  is  a  shadowy  name  to  this  generation 
and  wholly  forgotten  by  most  of  us,  but  he  was  a 
great  and  gallant  gentleman  who  was  of  the  rare 
company  of  those  that  wrought  enduring  deeds  in 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     191 

a  younger,  ruder  world,  and  so  helped  to  build  for 
those  who  should  come  after  him.  It  was  his  fate 
to  vanish  with  his  ships,  and  so  utterly  were  those 
fine  frigates  and  their  hundreds  of  sailors  erased 
from  the  seas  that  no  fragment  of  tidings  was  dis- 
covered for  almost  forty  years.  Their  disappear- 
ance was  one  of  the  sensations  of  an  era  in  which 
shipwrecks  were  so  frequent  that  they  had  to  be 
quite  extraordinary  to  arouse  public  attention. 

The  two  frigates  carried  an  elaborate  party  of 
scientists,  which  included  a  geographer,  a  civil  en- 
gineer, a  noted  surgeon,  an  astronomer,  a  physicist, 
a  botanist,  and  a  clock-maker.  They  were  pre- 
pared to  survey,  map,  and  investigate  any  distant 
shores  which  had  been  overlooked  by  the  persistent 
English,  Dutch,  and  Portuguese  navigators.  It 
was  typical  of  French  thoroughness  that  "Fleurien, 
the  superintendent  of  ports  and  arsenals,  con- 
tributed an  entire  volume  of  learned  notes  and  dis- 
cussions upon  the  results  of  all  known  voyages  since 
the  time  of  Christopher  Columbus." 

Laden  with  all  manner  of  stores  and  merchandise 
the  two  ships  La  Boussole  and  Lf Astrolabe  sailed 
bravely  out  of  the  ancient  port  of  Brest  on  August 
30,  1785.  By  way  of  Madeira  they  ran  the  long 
slant  across  the  Atlantic  to  Brazil,  and  during  this 
first  leg  of  the  voyage  La  Perouse  showed  himself 


192     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

to  be  a  wonderfully  capable  leader.  Those  old 
wooden  war-ships  were  so  many  pest-houses,  as  a 
rule,  in  which  sailors  sickened  and  died  by  scores 
during  prolonged  periods  of  sea  duty.  The  quar- 
ters in  which  the  men  were  crowded  were  wet  and 
foul  and  unventilated  in  rough  weather,  and  the  diet 
of  salt  meat  bred  the  disease  of  scurvy.  The  jour- 
nal of  this  voyage  says: 

After  ninety-six  days'  navigation  we  had  not  one  case 
of  illness  on  board.  The  health  of  the  crew  had  remained 
unimpaired  by  change  of  climate,  rain,  and  fog;  but  our 
provisions  were  of  first-class  quality ;  I  neglected  none  of 
the  precautions  which  experience  and  prudence  suggested 
to  me ;  and  above  all,  we  kept  up  our  spirits  by  encourag- 
ing dancing  every  evening  among  the  crew  whenever  the 
weather  permitted. 

Around  Cape  Horn  and  to  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
which  Captain  Cook  had  discovered  only  a  few  years 
earlier,  the  lonely  frigates  steered  their  wandering 
course,  and  then  northward  to  the  Alaskan  coast  of 
America.  While  exploring  a  bay  among  the  gla- 
ciers two  boats  were  swamped  and  lost  in  the  break- 
ers, and  the  shipmates  of  the  drowned  officers  and 
men  built  a  monument  of  stone  with  this  epitaph 
carved  upon  it: 

At  this  entrance  of  this  port,  twenty-one  brave 

sailors  perished. 
Whoever  you  may  be,  mingle  your  tears  with  ours. 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     193 

Thence  La  Perouse  coasted  down  to  Monterey 
Bay,  and  was  cordially  welcomed  among  the  Span- 
ish missions  of  California.  He  had  it  in  mind  to 
cross  the  unknown  stretches  of  the  Pacific,  and  so 
set  out  to  reach  China  by  a  new  sailing  route.  This 
brought  him  within  sight  of  Guam,  where  he  landed, 
and  then  he  touched  at  Manila.  Next  he  explored 
Formosa  and  the  coast  of  Tartary,  and  tarried 
awhile  among  the  primitive  fishing  folk  of  Saghalin 
and  Kamchatka.  It  was  pleasanter  when  the  frig- 
ates turned  southward  again  and  floated  in  the 
warm  and  tranquil  South  Seas.  The  second  in 
command,  M.  de  Langle,  was  killed  during  a  clash 
with  the  natives  of  the  Navigator  Islands,  and 
thirty-two  of  the  French  sailors  were  slain  or 
wounded  while  trying  to  fill  the  water-casks. 

Short-handed  and  dismayed  by  this  tragedy,  La 
Perouse  went  to  Botany  Bay,  Australia,  where  the 
English  were  just  then  beginning  to  establish  a 
colony,  in  order  to  send  his  sick  and  wounded  ashore 
and  to  refit  his  worn,  weary  ships.  They  had  been 
away  from  France  almost  three  years,  and  the  frig- 
ates hoisted  sails  that  were  patched  and  threadbare 
until  it  seemed  as  though  a  breeze  would  blow  them 
from  the  yards.  The  clothes  of  the  men  were  no 
better.  The  paint  was  weathern-worn  on  the  sides 
and  bulwarks,  weeds  and  barnacles  grew  thick  on 


194     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  planking,  and  the  decks  were  cracked  and  blis- 
tered by  tropical  suns.  They  were  like  the  phan- 
tom ships  of  some  old  sailor's  yarn. 

Yet  La  Perouse  was  ready  to  go  on  with  his 
quest,  nor  was  there  any  sign  of  mutiny  among  his 
men.  Most  of  them  were  hard  and  brown  and 
healthy,  and  ready  to  follow  him  to  other  ends  of 
the  earth.  It  was  his  purpose  to  depart  from  Bot- 
any Bay  and  explore  the  Australian  coast  and  the 
Friendly  Islands,  and  finally  to  lay  his  course  to 
reach  Mauritius,  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  at  the  end  of 
the  year  of  1788.  This  was  the  last  word  that  came 
from  him  to  France.  Two  more  years  passed,  and 
not  a  ship  had  sighted  the  roving  frigates,  nor  had 
they  been  seen  in  any  port.  The  people  of  France 
were  proud  of  Le  Perouse  and  his  romantic  achieve- 
ments, and  although  the  unhappy  nation  was  in  the 
throes  of  revolution,  the  National  Assembly  passed 
a  decree  which  read  in  part : 

That  the  King  be  entreated  to  give  orders  to  all  am- 
bassadors, residents,  consuls,  and  national  agents  at  the 
courts  of  foreign  powers  that  they  may  engage  those  dif- 
ferent sovereigns,  in  the  name  of  humanity  and  of  the 
arts  and  sciences,  to  charge  all  navigators  and  agents 
whatsoever,  their  subjects,  in  whatever  place  they  may  be, 
but  especially  in  the  southerly  part  of  the  South  Sea,  to 
make  inquiry  after  the  two  French  frigates,  La  Bowssole 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     195 

and  L' Astrolabe,  commanded  by  M.  de  la  Perouse  as  well 
as  after  their  crews,  and  to  obtain  every  information 
which  may  ascertain  their  existence  or  their  shipwreck; 
so  that  in  case  M.  de  la  Perouse,  and  his  companions 
should  be  found,  no  matter  in  what  place,  there  shall  be 
given  to  them  every  assistance,  and  all  means  procured  for 
them,  that  they  may  be  enabled  to  return  to  their  country 
with  whatever  may  belong  to  them. 

It  is  further  decreed  that  the  King  be  entreated  to  di- 
rect that  one  or  more  vessels  be  equipped  and  several 
learned  and  experienced  persons  embarked  therein,  to  the 
commanders  of  which  may  be  given  in  charge  the  double 
mission,  to  search  after  M.  de  la  Perouse  and  also  at  the 
same  time  to  render  this  expedition  useful  and  advantag- 
eous to  navigation,  to  geography,  and  to  the  arts  and 
sciences. 

This  hope  of  rescue  appealed  to  the  quick  imagi- 
nation of  France.  La  Perouse  was  a  national  hero. 
It  was  argued,  with  good  reason,  that  he  might  be 
waiting  on  some  solitary  island  of  those  empty  seas 
where  topsails  had  never  yet  lifted  above  the  blue 
horizon.  Again  two  frigates  were  elaborately 
fitted  out  at  Brest,  and  rechristened,  with  a  pretty 
touch  of  sentiment,  la  Recherche  (The  Research) 
and  L'Esperance  (The  Hope) .  They  sailed  early 
in  1791,  touching  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  where 
the  vice-admiral  in  command  got  wind  of  a  curious 
rumor  that  "near  the  Admiralty  Islands  in  the  Pa- 
cific Ocean  the  captain  of  a  British  sloop-of-war  had 


196     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

seen  men  dressed  in  the  European  style  and  in  what 
he  took  to  be  French  uniforms." 

This  fanned  the  spark  of  expectation  and  seemed 
a  promising  trail  to  follow,  but  the  most  careful 
search  failed  to  confirm  the  report.  Among  the 
reefs  and  islands  the  frigates  cruised  in  vain  until 
they  had  been  away  from  home  more  than  two  years. 
Then  without  finding  a  trace  of  La  Perouse  and  all 
his  gallant  officers  and  patient,  resolute  seamen, 
they  sailed  to  the  Dutch  East  Indies.  There  they 
received  amazing  news  from  their  beloved  France. 
Louis  XVI  had  been  beheaded,  and  the  agonized  re- 
public was  at  war  with  the  armies  of  Europe.  The 
Dutch  officials  of  Sourabaya,  regarding  all 
Frenchmen  as  lawful  enemies,  held  the  crew  of  the 
frigates  as  prisoners,  and  this  was  the  end  of  the 
search  for  La  Perouse. 

The  people  of  storm-tossed  France  had  other 
things  to  think  of,  and  they  forgot  all  about  the  lost 
explorer  and  his  ships'  companies.  There  was  rea- 
son to  believe  that  some  of  them  were  alive  when 
the  two  frigates  had  been  trying  to  find  them.  In 
1791  Captain  Edwards  was  roaming  the  South  Seas 
in  the  British  frigate  Pandora,  whose  mission  was  to 
run  down  and  carry  home  for  punishment  the  fa- 
mous mutineers  of  the  Bounty.  He  sighted  the  is- 
land of  Vanikoro  and  ran  along  its  shore,  no  more 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     197 

than  a  mile  outside  the  barrier  reef.  In  his  log  he 
noted  that  natives  appeared  to  be  attempting  to 
communicate  with  him  by  means  of  smoke  signals. 
Captain  Edwards  was  a  brave,  but  stupid,  officer  of 
the  Royal  Navy,  and  it  failed  to  occur  to  him  that 
the  natives  of  this  little  island,  which  had  been  un- 
discovered until  then,  would  be  most  unlikely  to  try 
to  talk  to  him  in  this  manner.  In  the  light  of  later 
information  there  is  every  probability  that  this 
smoke  was  made  by  survivors  of  La  Perouse's 
party,  and  they  were  still  marooned  on  Vanikoro 
several  years  after  their  shipwreck.  Their  emo- 
tions must  have  been  profoundly  melancholy  when 
they  saw  the  tall  British  frigate  glide  past  unheed- 
ing and  drop  from  their  wistful  vision. 

It  was  not  until  1813  that  the  first  thread  of  this 
tangled  skein  of  mystery  was  disclosed.  La  Pe- 
rouse  had  vanished  a  quarter  of  a  century  before, 
and  his  ships  were  long  since  listed  on  the  sadly 
eloquent  roll  of  "missing  with  all  hands."  It  is 
hard  to  astonish  a  deep-water  sailor,  because  noth- 
ing is  too  strange  to  happen  at  sea.  The  British 
merchantman  Hunter,  on  a  voyage  from  Calcutta 
to  New  South  Wales  and  Canton,  stopped  at  the 
Fiji  Islands  to  pick  up  some  sandalwood  and  beche- 
de-mer  by  way  of  turning  over  a  few  dollars  in 
trade.  Already  the  beach-comber  had  begun  to 


198     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

find  a  refuge  from  toil  in  the  South  Sea  Islands,  and 
Fiji  was  plagued  with  runaway  sailors  whose  idea 
of  paradise  was  to  loaf  and  get  drunk  and  dance 
with  the  girls. 

While  the  Hunter  was  taking  on  her  cargo,  a 
party  of  these  salt-water  vagabonds  engaged  in  a 
murderous  row  with  the  natives,  who  decided  to  be 
rid  of  them.  The  earnest  intention  of  the  em- 
battled Fijian  warriors  was  to  exterminate  their 
European  guests.  The  chief  mate  of  the  Hunter, 
Mr.  Dillon,  happened  to  be  ashore  with  a  boat's 
crew,  and  he  was  a  lusty  man  in  a  shindy,  as  his 
name  might  indicate.  Out  of  the  melee  he  suc- 
ceeded in  hauling  a  German  beach-comber,  Martin 
Bushart,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  sober,  decent  fel- 
low, and  a  Lascar  sailor.  They  were  taken  off  to 
the  ship  and  allowed  to  remain  there. 

When  the  Hunter  sailed  for  China,  this  derelict 
of  a  Martin  Bushart  made  the  singular  request  of 
Chief  Officer  Dillon  that  he  be  landed  on  the  first 
island  that  happened  to  be  convenient  to  the  ves- 
sel's course.  Dillon's  story  fails  to  explain  why 
this  simple-minded  "Prussian,"  as  he  called  him, 
should  have  desired  to  run  the  risk  of  being  killed 
and  perhaps  eaten  after  he  had  escaped  by  the  nar- 
rowest margin.  However,  the  captain  and  the 
mate  of  the  Hunter  were  obliging  mariners  who 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     199 

sensibly  concluded  that  it  was  a  man's  own  business 
if  he  yearned  to  hop  from  the  frying-pan  into  the 
fire,  and  so  they  let  the  ship  go  toward  the  first  land 
sighted  after  leaving  Fiji. 

This  happened  to  be  the  island  of  Tucopia,  and 
if  you  care  to  prick  it  off  on  the  chart,  Chief  Officer 
Dillon  gives  the  position  as  latitude  12°  15'  S.  and 
longitude  169°  E.  The  Lascar  sailor  who  also 
had  been  saved  from  the  irate  Fijians  and  their  up- 
lift movement  elected  to  seek  this  new  place  of  exile 
along  with  Martin  Bushart  as  a  sort  of  Man  Friday 
to  a  Prussian  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  so  the  singular 
pair  were  left  on  the  beach  of  Tucopia,  where  they 
waved  an  unperturbed  farewell,  while  the  Hunter 
hoisted  colors  and  fired  a  gun  to  express  her  regards 
and  best  wishes.  What  kind  of  welcome  the  natives 
extended  them  is  left  to  conjecture. 

Mr.  Dillon,  when  it  came  to  writing  about  the 
episodes,  unconsciously  employed  the  trick  of  the 
playwright  who  permits  so  many  years  to  elapse 
between  the  acts  of  the  drama.  Nothing  could  be 
more  concise  than  his  method  of  joining  the  facts 
together.  He  tells  us : 

We  landed  Martin  Bushart  and  the  Lascar  on  this 
island  the  20th  September,  1813.  On  the  13th  of  May, 
1826,  in  command  of  my  own  ship,  the  St.  Patrick,  bound 
from  Valparaiso  to  Pondicherry,  I  oame  in  sight  of  the  is- 


200    LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

land  of  Tucopia.  Prompted  by  curiosity,  as  well  as  re- 
gard for  an  old  companion  in  danger,  I  hove  my  ship  to 
off  the  island  of  Tucopia.  Shortly  a  canoe  put  off  from 
the  island  and  came  alongside.  In  it  was  the  Lascar. 
Immediately  after  another  canoe  came  off  with  Martin 
Bushart,  the  Prussian.  They  were  both  in  sound  health 
and  were  extremely  rejoiced  to  see  me.  They  informed 
me  that  the  natives  had  treated  them  kindly ;  that  no  ship 
had  touched  there  from  the  time  they  were  first  landed 
until  about  a  year  previous  to  my  arrival  when  an  Eng- 
lish whaler  visited  the  island  for  a  short  time. 

Captain  Dillon  mentions  the  dates  in  a  very  cas- 
ual fashion,  but  some  years  had  elapsed  with  a  ven- 
geance— thirteen  of  them,  in  fact — during  twelve  of 
which  Martin  Bushart  had  dwelt  contentedly  with- 
out seeing  the  face  of  another  white  man.  The  ties 
that  bound  him  to  his  island  had  been  strong  enough 
to  hold  him  there  when  the  chance  was  offered  to 
sail  away  in  the  English  whaler. 

While  the  pair  of  them  were  visiting  Captain 
Dillon  on  board  of  the  St.  Patrick,  the  Lascar 
showed  the  sailors  a  tarnished  old  silver  sword- 
guard,  and  one  of  them  bought  it  of  him  for  a  few 
fish-hooks.  Captain  Dillon  happened  to  see  it,  and 
asked  Martin  Bushart  where  it  had  come  from.  In 
this  strangely  accidental  way  was  revealed  the 
clouded  mystery  of  La  Perouse  and  his  lost  frigates. 
Bushart  explained  that  when  he  had  first  landed  on 
the  island  the  natives  possessed  as  their  chief  treas- 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     201 

ures  this  ornate  sword-guard,  the  handle  of  a  silver 
fork,  a  few  knives,  tea-cups,  glass  beads  and  bottles, 
and  a  spoon  engraved  with  a  crest  and  monogram. 
In  addition  to  these  furnishings  of  a  ship's  cabin, 
they  had  also  some  iron  bolts,  chain-plates,  and  axes. 

Martin  Bushart  had  been  curious  to  discover  how 
these  islanders  had  obtained  such  relics  of  disaster, 
for  the  Hunter  was  the  first  ship  that  had  ever  been 
seen  off  Tucopia  when  he  was  set  ashore  there  in 
1813.  He  was  informed  that  a  large  group  of  is- 
lands called  Manicola  lay  to  leeward  about  two 
days'  sail  in  a  canoe,  and  that  voyages  were  fre- 
quently made  there  for  trade  and  sociability.  It 
was  from  the  people  of  Manicola  that  the  articles  of 
iron  and  silver  had  been  obtained.  Now,  Captain 
Dillon  remembered  the  story  of  La  Perouse,  as  did 
every  shipmaster  who  traversed  the  South  Seas,  and 
so  he  examined  the  sword-guard  and  discovered  en- 
graved initials,  faint  and  worn,  but  legible  enough 
for  him  to  surmise  that  they  were  those  of  the 
French  discoverer  and  navigator. 

His  interest  keen,  Captain  Dillon  went  ashore 
with  Martin  Bushart,  who  interpreted  for  him,  and 
they  held  a  long  conversation  with  the  chiefs  of 
Tucopia.  Many  years  before,  so  the  tale  ran,  two 
great  ships  had  anchored  among  the  islands  of 
Manicola.  Before  they  were  able  to  send  any  boats 


202     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ashore  or  to  become  acquainted  with  the  natives,  a 
very  sudden  storm  arose,  and  both  ships  were  driven 
upon  the  reefs  and  were  destroyed  by  the  fury  of  the 
surf.  The  people  of  Manicola  rushed  in  crowds  to 
the  beach,  armed  with  clubs,  spears,  and  bows  and 
arrows,  and  the  sailors  of  the  ships  fired  muskets  and 
big  guns  at  them.  This  infuriated  the  people,  who 
killed  some  of  the  shipwrecked  men  when  they  were 
washed  ashore  or  managed  to  make  a  landing  in 
their  boats.  The  survivors  showed  a  friendly  spirit 
and  offered  axes,  buttons,  and  trinkets  as  gifts,  at 
which  the  people  ceased  to  attack  them. 

The  foreign  sailors  saved  a  large  quantity  of 
stores  and  other  material  from  the  wrecks,  and  at 
once  began  to  build  a  small  vessel  from  the  timbers 
of  the  two  shattered  frigates.  They  worked  with 
astonishing  skill  and  speed,  and  built  a  schooner 
that  was  large  enough  to  carry  most  of  them  away. 
The  commander  promised  to  return  and  bring  off 
those  whom  he  was  compelled  to  leave  behind. 
Crowded  into  this  little  makeshift  craft,  a  large 
number  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the  lost  Boussole 
and  U 'Astrolabe  steered  away  from  Manicola  and 
were  never  heard  of  again.  A  second  shipwreck 
swallowed  them  somewhere  in  the  South  Seas.  It 
was  impossible  to  ascertain  whether  La  Perouse 
himself  was  one  of  this  company.  Those  who  were 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     208 

left  behind  lived  with  the  people  of  Manicola  and 
were  kindly  treated  by  the  chiefs. 

The  Lascar  had  made  two  voyages  to  Manicola 
and  had  actually  talked  with  two  aged  Europeans, 
who  told  him  that  they  had  been  wrecked  many 
years  before  in  a  ship,  the  fragments  of  which  they 
pointed  out  to  him.  They  told  him  that  no  other 
ship  had  ever  stopped  there  since  and  that  most  of 
their  companions  were  dead,  but  that  they  had  been 
scattered  so  widely  among  the  islands  of  the  group 
that  it  was  impossible  to  know  whether  any  more  of 
them  were  still  living.  By  the  Lascar's  reckoning, 
this  would  have  been  about  thirty  years  after  the 
disaster  that  overwhelmed  the  frigates  of  La  Pe- 
rouse  and,  for  all  that  is  known,  he  himself  may  have 
been  one  of  those  aged  men  who  dwelt  so  long  be- 
yond all  knowledge  of  their  countrymen  in  France 
and  to  whom  the  priceless  gift  of  rescue  was  denied. 

Captain  Dillon  was  determined  to  proceed  at 
once  to  Manicola  and  find  and  save  those  two  aged 
castaways  whom  the  Lascar  believed  to  be  French- 
men. Leaving  Tucopia,  he  cracked  on  sail,  and 
Martin  Bushart  went  with  him,  having  concluded  to 
return  to  civilization  and  much  moved  by  the  friend- 
ship which  prompted  the  Irish  shipmaster  to  visit 
him  after  so  many  years  had  passed.  The  Lascar 
remained  behind,  having  a  large  and  happy  family, 


204     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

which  he  declined  to  desert.  Within  sight  of  the 
Manicola  group  a  dead  calm  held  the  good  ship 
St.  Patrick,  and  for  seven  days  not  a  breath  of  wind 
stirred  her  spires  of  canvas.  She  was  running  short 
of  provisions,  leaking  badly,  and  most  reluctantly 
Captain  Dillon  was  compelled  to  resume  his  voyage 
to  India. 

Reaching  Calcutta,  he  presented  a  carefully  writ- 
ten report  to  officials  of  the  British  Government  and 
stated  his  conclusion  that  the  remains  of  the  expedi- 
tion of  La  Perouse  were  to  be  found  among  the  is- 
lands of  the  Manicola  group.  The  story  was  so 
credible  that  the  Government  made  a  ship  ready 
and  placed  her  in  command  of  Captain  Dillon,  who 
got  under  way  in  January,  1827.  It  was  Septem- 
ber before  he  arrived  at  Tucopia,  where  he  found  the 
Lascar,  who,  for  some  reason  of  his  own,  refused  to 
accompany  the  party  to  Manicola.  Martin  Bush- 
art  was  still  with  Captain  Dillon,  however,  and  he 
conducted  a  thorough  investigation  among  the 
people  of  his  own  island  home  in  order  to  discover 
all  the  relics  possible.  Tucopia  was  systematically 
ransacked,  and  among  the  articles  brought  to  light 
were  more  swords,  bits  of  iron  and  copper,  and 
silverware  with  the  monogram  of  La  Perouse. 

After  a  fortnight,  Captain  Dillon  took  his  ship  to 
Manicola,  where  the  green  mountains  towered  from 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     205 

the  sea.  Alas!  no  aged  Frenchmen  came  down  to 
the  beach  to  greet  them,  nor  could  any  living  sur- 
vivor be  found.  Almost  forty  years  had  gone  since 
they  were  cast  away,  and  the  last  of  them  had 
slipped  his  moorings,  with  a  farewell  sigh  and  a 
prayer  for  France.  When  Captain  Dillon's  party 
went  ashore  in  a  flotilla  of  armed  boats,  all  the  chief 
men  of  the  island  were  assembled  in  the  council- 
hall,  and  the  most  venerable  and  influential  of  them 
delivered  himself  of  a  long  oration,  the  facts  of 
which  differed  somewhat  from  the  story  as  the  na- 
tives of  Tucopia  had  retold  it  to  Martin  Bushart 
and  the  Lascar.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  the 
patriarchal  chief,  speaking  at  first  hand,  told  the 
truth  when  he  said  to  Captain  Dillon: 

A  long  time  ago  the  people  of  this  island,  upon  com- 
ing out  one  morning,  saw  part  of  a  ship  on  the  reef  oppo- 
site Paiow  where  it  held  together  until  the  middle  of  the 
day  when  it  was  broken  by  the  sea  and  fell  to  pieces  so  that 
large  parts  of  it  floated  on  shore  along  the  coast.  The 
ship  got  on  the  reef  in  the  night  when  it  blew  a  tremendous 
hurricane  which  broke  down  great  numbers  of  our  fruit 
trees.  We  had  not  seen  the  ship  there  the  day  before. 
Of  those  saved  from  her  four  men  were  on  the  beach  at  this 
place;  whom  we  were  about  to  kill,  supposing  them  to  be 
evil  spirits,  when  they  made  a  present  to  our  chief  of  some- 
thing and  he  saved  their  lives. 

These  men  lived  with  us  for  a  short  time  and  then  j  oined 
the  rest  of  their  own  people  on  the  other  island  of  Paiow. 


206     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

None  of  these  four  men  was  a  chief.  They  were  only  sub- 
ordinate men  who  obeyed  orders.  The  things  which  we 
have  brought  together  to  show  you  were  procured  from 
the  ship  wrecked  on  that  reef  where,  at  low  water,  our 
people  were  in  the  habit  of  diving  and  bringing  up  what 
they  could  find.  Several  pieces  of  the  wreck  floated  on 
shore,  from  which  we  obtained  some  things ;  but  nothing 
more  has  been  found  for  a  long,  long  time. 

We  killed  none  of  the  ship's  crew  at  this  place,  but  many 
dead  bodies  were  cast  up  on  the  beach.  On  the  same  night 
another  great  ship  struck  a  reef  near  another  of  our  is- 
lands, Whanou,  and  went  down.  There  were  many  men 
saved  from  her,  and  they  built  a  little  ship,  and  went  away 
five  moons  after  the  big  one  was  wrecked.  While  building 
it,  they  had  a  high  fence  of  logs  all  around  them  to  keep 
out  the  islanders,  who  were  also  afraid  of  them,  and  there- 
fore there  was  not  much  intercourse  between  them. 

The  white  men  often  used  to  look  at  the  sun  through 
something  made  of  wood  and  brass,  but  they  carried  it 
away  with  them  as  being  very  precious.  Two  white  men 
remained  behind  after  the  rest  went  away.  These  I  re- 
member, although  there  were  more,  no  doubt.  One  of 
them  was  a  chief  and  the  other  a  common  person,  who 
attended  on  this  other,  his  master.  The  white  chief  died 
about  three  years  ago.  His  servant  went  away  to  another 
island  with  one  of  our  chiefs  some  time  before  that.  The 
only  white  men  that  the  people  of  these  islands  have  ever 
seen  were  those  who  came  ashore  from  the  two  wrecked 
ships  and  you  who  stand  before  me  now. 

Obedient  to  orders,  the  friendly  islanders  had  as- 
sembled for  Captain  Dillon's  inspection  everything 
that  had  been  fished  up  or  handed  down  to  them 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     207 

from  the  pitiful  fragments  of  La  Perouse's  frigates. 
There  was  much  iron  and  copper,  broken  chinaware, 
silver  plate  stamped  with  the  lilies'  of  France,  a 
ship's  bell,  several  brass  cannon,  and  pewter  dishes 
also  bearing  the  fleur-de-lis.  On  the  bronze  bell 
was  the  emblem  of  the  holy  cross  between  images 
of  the  Saviour  and  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  so  the 
symbols  of  religion,  of  faith,  of  suffering,  and  of 
consolation  had  been  preserved  for  those  survivors 
who  grew  old  and  died  on  these  undiscovered  islands 
of  the  South  Seas. 

It  wafs  evident  that  the  frigates  had  driven  ashore 
on  two  different  islands  of  the  group,  and  Captain 
Dillon  visited  the  scenes  of  both  disasters.  Native 
divers  explored  the  reefs  and  found  cannon  em- 
bedded in  the  sand  and  massive  oaken  timbers  and 
other  memorials  which  enabled  him  to  fix  the  posi- 
tion of  the  ships.  Of  the  stockade  and  the  launch- 
ing-ways  upon  which  the  stout-hearted  French  sea- 
men had  built  their  little  schooner  not  a  trace  could 
be  found.  During  forty  years  of  luxuriant  growth 
the  jungle  had  obliterated  man's  handiwork,  and 
the  logs  had  rotted  into  mold. 

The  extraordinary  fact  was  noted  that  the  sur- 
vivors who  lingered  into  old  age  on  these  islands 
had  left  no  written  record  or  message  behind  them, 
not  a  word  to  indicate  who  they  were.  Lacking 


208     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

paper,  they  might  have  carved  upon  boards  the  brief 
epitome  of  their  story  or  lettered  it  with  charcoal  on 
bits  of  bark,  and  the  kindly  chiefs  of  Manicola 
would  have  guarded  the  record  with  care.  Like 
ghosts  of  sailormen,  they  lived  in  the  memories  and 
the  traditions  of  these  South  Sea  Islanders.  Cap- 
tain Dillon  made  an  interesting  discovery  while  ex- 
ploring the  reefs,  and  he  thus  describes  it: 

Being  in  want  of  water,  two  men  from  each  boat  landed 
with  the  water  kegs  and  went  up  to  the  nearest  house.  On 
passing  it,  one  of  our  people  called  out  in  Spanish,  "Here 
is  a  fleur-de-lis,  which  M.  Chaigneau  and  I,  who  followed 
and  understood  him,  desired  him  to  point  out.  He  di- 
rected our  attention  to  the  door  of  a  house  where  we  saw 
at  the  bottom  of  the  threshold  a  decayed  piece  of  fir  or 
pine  plank  with  a  fleur-de-lis  and  other  ornamental  work 
upon  it.  It  had  probably  formed  part  of  a  ship's  stern 
and  when  complete  exhibited  the  national  arms  of  France. 
It  was  placed  upon  edge  to  barricade  the  passage,  for 
the  double  purpose  of  keeping  the  pigs  out  and  the  chil- 
dren in  the  house.  This  we  bought  for  a  hatchet. 

It  was  in  Captain  Dillon's  mind  that  one  of  the 
survivors  had  gone  to  another  island,  according  to 
the  old  chief's  story,  and  so  after  finishing  the  in- 
vestigation of  the  Manicola  group,  he  sailed  to 
ransack  the  seas  near  by.  Nothing  came  of  the 
search,  and  the  natives  whom  he  questioned  here 
and  there  had  never  seen  or  heard  of  other  white 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     209 

men  excepting  in  the  legends  of  the  wreck  of  the 
two  great  ships  as  they  had  listened  to  the  tales  and 
songs  of  visitors  from  Manicola.  Captain  Dillon 
returned  to  Calcutta,  where  his  enterprise  and  suc- 
cess were  highly  approved  by  the  British  Govern- 
ment of  India,  which  ordered  him  to  proceed  to 
France  with  the  precious  relics  of  the  lost  expedi- 
tion of  La  Perouse. 

The  Irish  merchant  skipper  found  that  he  had  be- 
come a  distinguished  personage.  His  Most  Chris- 
tian Majesty,  Charles  X  of  France,  was  pleased  to 
make  him  a  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  with 
an  annuity  of  four  thousand  francs.  Chevalier 
Dillon  relates : 

I  was  now  taken  to  the  French  court  and  presented  to 
the  king  who  received  me  very  graciously  and  conversed 
with  me  upon  the  subject  of  my  voyage.  He  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  history  of  La  Perouse's  expedition  and 
addressed  several  judicious  questions  to  me  respecting  the 
loss  of  that  celebrated  navigator,  and  inquired  what  was 
my  opinion  as  to  the  probability  of  any  of  the  crew  being 
yet  alive  on  the  Solomon  Islands. 

While  in  Paris  I  met  several  times  with  the  Viscount 
Sesseps  who  is  the  only  person  of  La  Perouse's  expedition 
now  known  to  be  alive.  He  was  attached  to  it  twenty- 
six  months  and  was  landed  at  Kamchatka  to  convey  dis- 
patches and  the  charts  and  journals  to  France.  He  is 
now  sixty-five  years  of  age  and  in  good  health.  He  ac- 
companied me  one  day  to  the  Ministry  of  Marine  for  the 


210     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

purpose  of  viewing  the  relics  procured  at  Manicola  which 
he  examined  minutely.  The  piece  of  board  with  the  fleur- 
de-lis  on  it,  he  observed,  had  most  probably  once  formed 
a  part  of  the  ornamental  work  of  the  Boussole's  stern  on 
which  the  national  arms  of  France  were  represented.  The 
silver  sword  handle  he  also  examined  and  said  that  such 
swords  were  worn  by  the  officers  of  the  expedition.  With 
regard  to  the  brass  guns,  having  looked  at  them  atten- 
tively, he  observed  that  the  four  largest  were  such  as  stood 
on  the  quarter-deck  of  both  ships,  and  that  the  smallest 
gun  was  such  as  they  had  mounted  in  the  long-boats  when 
going  on  shore  among  the  savages.  On  noticing  a  small 
mill-stone,  he  turned  around  suddenly  and  expressed  his 
surprise,  exclaiming,  "That  is  the  best  thing  you  have  got ! 
We  had  some  of  them  mounted  on  the  quarter-deck  to 
grind  our  grain." 

Savants  and  naval  officers  weighed  all  the  evi- 
dence, and  were  of  the  opinion  that  at  least  two  of 
the  survivors  had  been  alive  as  late  as  1824,  or 
thirty-six  years  after  the  shipwreck,  and  that  one  of 
them  was  possibly  La  Perouse.  The  theory  was 
advanced  that  after  his  great  adventure  had  been 
eclipsed  by  a  misfortune  so  enormous,  he  might  have 
been  unwilling  to  return  to  France,  fancying  him- 
self disgraced,  and  that  he  perhaps  chose  to  maroon 
himself  at  Manicola  when  his  comrades  sailed  away 
in  their  tiny  schooner.  Be  that  as  it  may,  their  fate 
was  no  less  tragic,  for  the  sea  conquered  them  and 
left  no  sign  or  token.  Long  after  Captain  Dillon 


FRIGATES  THAT  VANISHED     211 

had  made  his  famous  voyage  of  discovery,  the  belief 
still  persisted  in  France  that  La  Perouse  and  some 
of  his  officers  and  men  were  existing  somewhere  in 
the  South  Seas  and  awaiting  the  rescue  that  never 
came. 

Soon  after  Captain  Dillon  visited  Manicola,  a 
French  ship  arrived  there  on  a  similar  mission. 
Having  satisfied  himself  as  to  the  location  of  the 
wreck  of  the  flag-ship,  Lf Astrolabe,  the  captain  sent 
his  crew  ashore  to  erect  an  enduring  monument  of 
stone,  upon  which  was  carved  the  words: 

"To  the  Memory  of  La  Perouse  and  his  Com- 
panions." 


CHAPTER  IX 

WHEN   H.    M.    S.   PHOENIX    DROVE   ASHORE 

Where  Blake  and  mighty  Nekon  fell 
Your  manly  hearts  shall  glow, 

As  ye  sweep  through  the  deep, 
While  the  stormy  winds  do  blow ! 

While  the  battle  rages  loud  and  long 
And  the  stormy  winds  do  blow. 

IT  was  a  British  admiral,  Sir  Lewis  Bayly,  who 
told  the  officers  of  the  American  destroyers  op- 
erating out  of  Queenstown,  "To  work  with  you  is  a 
pleasure,  to  know  you  is  to  know  the  best  traits  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race."  In  the  same  spirit  it  is 
generous  to  recall  the  enduring  traditions  of  the 
English  Navy,  which  were  welded  through  many 
centuries  of  courageous  conflict  with  the  sea  and  the 
enemy.  The  wooden  frigates  and  the  towering 
ships  of  the  line  gave  place  to  the  steel-walled 
cruiser  and  the  grim,  squat  dreadnought,  but  for 
the  men  behind  the  guns  the  salty  lineage  was  un- 
broken. As  Beatty  and  his  squadrons  kept  watch 
and  ward  in  the  misty  Orkneys,  so  had  Nelson 
maintained  his  uneasy  vigil  off  Toulon. 

212 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  213 

Among  the  annals  of  the  vanished  days  of  the  old 
navies,  of  the  tarry,  pigtailed  seamen  with  hearts 
of  oak,  the  story  of  a  shipwreck  has  been  preserved 
in  a  letter  written  to  his  mother  by  a  lieutenant  of 
the  frigate  Phoenix  in  the  year  1780.  He  tells  her 
about  the  tragic  episode  as  though  he  had  actually 
enjoyed  it,  scribbling  the  details  with  a  boyish  gusto 
which  conveys  to  us,  in  a  manner  exceedingly  vivid, 
how  ships  and  men  lived  and  toiled  in  the  age  of 
boarding-pikes,  hammock-nettings,  and  single  top- 
sails. Few  young  men  write  such  long  letters  to 
their  mothers  nowadays,  and  even  in  that  era  of 
leisurely  and  literary  correspondence  a  friend  who 
was  permitted  to  read  the  narrative  was  moved  to 
comment : 

"Every  circumstance  is  detailed  with  feeling  and 
powerful  appeals  are  continually  made  to  the  heart. 
It  must  likewise  afford  considerable  pleasure  to  ob- 
serve the  devout  heart  of  a  seaman  frequently  burst- 
ing forth  and  imparting  sublimity  to  the  relation." 

This  stilted  admiration  must  not  frighten  the 
modern  reader  away,  for  Lieutenant  Archer  held  his 
old-fashioned  piety  well  under  control,  and  was  as 
brisk,  slangy,  and  engaging  a  young  officer  as  you 
could  find  afloat  in  a  skittish  destroyer  of  the  pres- 
ent day.  The  forty- four-gun  frigate  Phoenix  was 
commanded  by  Captain  Sir  Hyde  Parker,  who 


214     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

later  became  an  admiral,  and  under  whose  orders 
Nelson  served  for  a  time.  His  name  has  a  flavor  of 
interest  for  Americans  because  he  took  part  in  the 
British  naval  attack  on  New  York  in  1776  and 
later  joined  in  harassing  Savannah.  With  almost 
no  naval  strength  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  the 
United  States  had  only  its  audacious  privateers  to 
molest  the  enemy's  commerce  and  was  helpless  to 
convoy  or  protect  its  merchant  shipping,  which  was 
largely  destroyed.  The  British  squadron  to  which 
the  Phoenix  was  attached,  finding  little  American 
booty  afloat  in  1780,  turned  its  attention  to  the 
Spanish  foe  and  cruised  in  the  waters  of  the  Carib- 
bean. 

On  August  2d  the  frigate  sailed  from  Port  Royal, 
Jamaica,  escorting  two  store-ships  to  Pensacola,  and 
then  loafed  about  in  the  Gulf  and  off  the  Cuban 
coast  for  six  weeks  in  quest  of  Spanish  prizes.  It 
was  a  hot,  wretchedly  uncomfortable  business,  this 
beating  about  in  the  tropics  in  a  ship  of  a  hundred 
and  forty  years  ago.  The  bluejackets  were  fre- 
quently flogged  by  way  of  making  them  fond  of  the 
service,  and  many  of  them  had  been  hauled  into  this 
kind  of  maritime  slavery  by  the  brutal  press-gangs 
which  raked  the  English  ports.  Somehow  they 
managed  to  survive  the  chronic  hardships  of  life  at 
sea  and  to  keep  their  ardor  bright,  so  that  in  a  gale 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  215 

of  wind  or  against  a  hostile  fleet  they  stubbornly  did 
their  duty  as  long  as  two  planks  held  together. 
The  bulldog  strain  made  them  heroic. 

In  the  ward-room  of  the  Phoenix,  where  the  of- 
ficers perspired  and  grumbled  and  cursed  their  luck, 
they  kept  an  ingenious  lottery  going  to  vary  the 
monotony  of  an  empty  sea.  Every  man  put  a 
Spanish  dollar  into  a  canvas  bag  and  set  down  his 
guess  of  the  date  of  sighting  a  sail.  No  two  gam- 
blers were  to  name  the  same  date.  Whenever  a 
man  lost,  he  dropped  another  dollar  into  the  bag. 
It  was  growing  heavy,  for  one  week  stretched  into 
another  without  a  gleam  of  rovals  or  topgallant-sails 
from  Vera  Cruz  to  Havana.  Like  a  good  sports- 
man, Captain  Sir  Hyde  Parker  paid  his  stake  into 
the  dollar  bag  and  squinted  through  his  long 
brass  spy-glass  as  he  grumpily  trudged  the  quarter- 
deck. 

It  was  off  Cape  San  Antonio,  at  the  western  end 
of  Cuba,  that  the  man  at  the  masthead  shouted 
down : 

"A  sail  upon  the  weather  bow." 

"Ha!  ha!  Mr.  Spaniard,  I  think  we  have  you  at 
last,"  jubilantly  exclaimed  the  captain.  "Turn  out 
all  hands!  Make  sail!  All  hands  give  chase!" 

A  midshipman  scrambled  aloft  and  blithely  re- 
ported : 


216     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

"A  large  ship  standing  athwart  us  and  running 
right  before  the  wind." 

"Larboard!  Keep  her  away!  Set  the  studding- 
sails!"  was  the  order,  and  two  hundred  nimble  sea- 
men raced  to  their  stations  on  deck  and  in  the  tops 
and  swarmed  out  along  the  yards. 

Up  from  below  came  the  little  doctor,  rubbing  his 
hands  and  crying: 

"What,  ho!     I  have  won  the  dollar  bag!" 

"The  devil  take  you  and  your  bag!"  roared  Lieu- 
tenant Archer.  "Look  yonder!  That  will  fill  all 
our  money-bags." 

"Two  more  sail  on  the  larboard  beam,"  came  from 
aloft.  "A  whole  fleet  of  twenty  sail  coming  before 
the  wind." 

"Confound  the  luck  of  it!"  growled  the  captain  of 
the  frigate,  "this  is  some  convoy  or  other;  but  we 
must  try  to  snap  up  two  or  three  of  them.  Haul  in 
the  studding-sails.  Luff  her.  Let  us  see  what  we 
can  make  of  them." 

They  were  discovered  to  be  twenty-five  sail  of 
Spanish  merchantmen,  under  convoy  of  three  lofty 
line-of -battle  ships,  one  of  which  set  out  in  chase  of 
the  agile  Phoenix,  which  soon  showed  her  heels.  A 
frigate  had  no  business  to  linger  too  close  to  the 
hundred  guns  of  a  ponderous  three-decker.  The 
huge  Spanish  man-of-war  lumbered  back  to  the  con- 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  217 

voy  and  herded  them  watchfully  while  the  British 
nosed  about  until  dark,  but  found  no  stray  prizes 
that  could  be  cut  out  from  the  flock.  In  the  star- 
light three  ships  seemed  to  be  steering  a  course  at 
some  distance  from  the  Spanish  fleet,  so  the  frigate 
gave  chase,  and  came  up  with  a  heavy  vessel  mount- 
ing twenty-six  guns. 

"Archer,  every  man  to  his  quarters,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. "Light  the  battle-lanterns  and  open  the  gun- 
ports.  Show  this  fellow  our  force,  and  it  may  pre- 
vent his  firing  into  us  and  killing  a  man  or  two." 

Across  the  intervening  water  rang  the  challenge 
from  the  Phoenix: 

"Ho,  the  ship  ahoy !  Lower  your  sails  and  bring 
to  instantly,  or  I  will  sink  you." 

Amid  the  clatter  of  blocks  and  creaking  of  spars 
the  other  ship  laid  her  mainyard  aback  and 
hung  plunging  in  the  wind  while  to  the  sharp 
interrogation  her  skipper  bawled  through  his 
trumpet : 

"This  is  the  British  armed  merchant  ship  Polly, 
from  Jamaica  to  New  York.  What  ship  are  you?" 

"His  Majesty's  forty-four  gun  frigate  Phoenix'' 
was  the  reply,  at  which  the  honest  sailors  of  the 
merchantman  let  go  three  rousing  cheers;  but  a 
glum  old  shell-back  of  the  frigate's  crew  was  heard 
to  mutter : 


218     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

"Oh,  damn  your  huzzas!  We  took  you  to  be 
something  else." 

The  Polly  had  fallen  in  with  the  Spanish  fleet 
that  same  morning,  as  it  turned  out,  and  had  been 
chased  all  day,  wherefore  the  frigate  stood  by  her 
until  they  had  run  clear  of  danger.  It  was  the 
courtesy  of  the  sea,  but  Lieutenant  Archer  was  un- 
consoled  and  he  fretfully  jotted  down  in  writing  to 
his  mother: 

"There  I  was,  from  being  worth  thousands  in 
imagination,  reduced  to  the  old  four  and  sixpence  a 
day.  The  little  doctor  won  the  most  prize  money 
of  us  all,  for  the  bag  contained  between  thirty  and 
forty  dollars." 

After  almost  running  ashore  in  a  thick  night  and 
clawing  off  by  good  seamanship,  the  Phoenix  ran 
over  to  Jamaica  for  fresh  water,  and  then  sailed  in 
company  with  two  other  frigates.  The  verdant 
mountains  of  that  lovely  island  were  still  visible 
when  the  sky  became  overcast.  By  eleven  o'clock 
that  night,  "it  began  to  snuffle,  with  a  monstrous 
heavy  appearance  from  the  eastward."  Sir  Hyde 
Parker  sent  for  Lieutenant  Archer,  who  was  his 
navigating  officer,  and  exclaimed: 

"What  sort  of  weather  have  we?  It  blows  a  lit- 
tle and  has  a  very  ugly  look.  If  in  any  other 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  219 

quarter  but  this  I  should  say  we  were  going  to  have 
a  smart  gale  of  wind." 

"Aye,  sir,"  replied  the  lieutenant,  "it  looks  so 
very  often  here  when  there  is  no  wind  at  all.  How- 
ever, don't  hoist  topsails  until  it  clears  a  little." 

Next  morning  it  was  dirty  weather,  blowing  hard, 
with  heavy  squalls,  and  the  frigate  laboring  under 
close-reefed  lower  sails. 

"I  doubt  whether  it  clears,"  said  the  frowning 
captain.  "I  was  once  in  a  hurricane  in  the  East 
Indies,  and  the  beginning  of  it  had  much  the  same 
appearance  as  this.  So  be  sure  we  have  plenty  of 


sea  room." 


All  day  the  wind  steadily  increased  in  violence, 
and  the  frigate,  spray-swept  and  streaming,  rolled 
in  the  passage  between  Jamaica  and  Cuba,  in  peril 
of  foundering  if  she  stayed  at  sea  and  of  fetching 
up  on  the  rocks  if  she  tried  to  run  for  shelter. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  fight  it  out.  I  shall 
let  Lieutenant  Archer  describe  something  of  the 
struggle  in  his  own  words,  old  sea  lingo  and  all,  be- 
cause he  depicts  it  with  a  spirit  so  high-hearted  and 
adventurous,  quite  as  you  would  expect  it  of  a  true- 
blue  young  sailorman. 

At  eight  o'clock  a  hurricane;  the  sea  roaring  but  the 
wind  still  steady  to  a  point;  did  not  ship  a  spoonful  of 


220     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

water.  However,  got  the  hatchways  all  secured,  expect- 
ing what  would  be  the  consequence  should  the  wind  shift ; 
placed  the  carpenters  by  the  mainmast  with  broad-axes, 
knowing  from  experience  that  at  the  moment  you  may 
want  to  cut  it  away  to  save  the  ship,  an  axe  may  not  be 
found.  Went  to  supper ;  bread,  cheese,  and  porter.  The 
purser  frightened  out  of  his  wits  about  his  bread  bags, 
the  two  marine  officers  as  white  as  sheets,  not  under- 
standing the  ship's  working  and  groaning  in  every  timber, 
and  the  noise  of  the  lower  deck  guns  which  by  this  time 
made  a  pretty  screeching  and  straining  to  people  not 
used  to  it.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  ship's  side  was  go- 
ing at  each  roll.  Old  "Wooden-head,"  our  carpenter, 
was  all  this  time  smoking  his  pipe  and  laughing  at  the 
doctor;  the  second  lieutenant  upon  deck,  and  the  third  in 
his  hammock. 

At  ten  o'clock  I  thought  to  get  a  little  sleep ;  came  to 
look  into  my  cot ;  it  was  full  of  water,  for  every  seam,  by 
the  straining  of  the  ship  had  begun  to  leak  and  the  sea  was 
also  flooding  through  the  closed  gun-ports.  I  stretched 
myself,  therefore,  upon  the  deck  between  two  chests  and 
left  orders  to  be  called,  should  the  least  thing  happen.  At 
twelve  a  midshipman  came  up  to  me: 

"Mr.  Archer,  we  are  just  going  to  wear  ship,  sir." 

"Oh,  very  well,  I  '11  be  up  directly.  What  sort  of 
weather  have  you  got?" 

"It  blows  a  hurricane,  sir,  and  I  think  we  shall  lose  the 
ship." 

Went  upon  deck  and  found  Sir  Hyde  there.     Said  he: 

"It  blows  damned  hard,  Archer." 

"It  does  indeed,  sir." 

"I  don't  know  that  I  ever  remember  it  blowing  so  hard 
before,  Archer,  but  the  ship  makes  a  very  good  weather 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  221 

of  it  upon  this  tack  as  she  bows  the  sea ;  but  we  must  wear 
her,  as  the  wind  has  shifted  to  the  south-east  and  we 
are  drawing  right  down  upon  Cuba.  So  do  you  go  for- 
ward and  have  some  hands  stand  by;  loose  the  lee  yard- 
arm  of  the  foresail  and  when  she  is  right  before  the  wind, 
whip  the  clew-garnet  close  up  and  roll  up  the  sail." 

"Sir,  there  is  no  canvas  that  can  stand  against  this  a 
moment.  If  we  attempt  to  loose  him  he  will  fly  into 
ribands  in  an  instant,  and  we  lose  three  or  four  of  our 
people.  She  will  wear  by  manning  the  fore  shrouds.'' 

"No,  I  don't  think  she  will,  Archer." 

"I  '11  answer  for  it,  sir.  I  have  seen  it  tried  several 
times  on  the  coast  of  America  with  success." 

The  captain  accepted  the  suggestion,  and  Archer 
considered  it  "a  great  condescension  from  such  a 
man  as  Sir  Hyde."  Two  hundred  sailors  were  or- 
dered to  climb  into  the  fore-rigging  and  flatten 
themselves  against  the  shrouds  and  ratlines  where 
the  wind  tore  at  them  and  almost  plucked  them  from 
their  desperate  station.  Thus  arranged,  their 
bodies  en  masse  made  a  sort  of  human  sail  against 
which  the  hurricane  exerted  pressure  enough  to 
swing  the  bow  of  the  struggling  ship,  and  she  very 
slowly  wore,  or  changed  direction  until  she  stood 
on  the  other  tack.  It  was  a  feat  of  seamanship 
which  was  later  displayed  during  the  historic  hur- 
ricane in  the  harbor  of  Samoa  when  British,  Ger- 
man, and  American  men-of-war  were  smashed  by 
the  tremendous  fury  of  wind  and  sea,  and  the  gal- 


222     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

lant  old  steam  frigates  Vandalia,  Trenton,  and 
Nipsic  faced  destruction  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
gallantly  streaming  and  the  crews  cheering  the 
luckier  British  ship  that  was  able  to  fight  its  way 
out  to  sea. 

The  hapless  Plioenioc  endured  it  tenaciously,  but 
the  odds  were  too  great  for  her.  When  she  tried 
to  rise  and  shake  her  decks  free  of  the  gigantic 
combers,  they  smashed  her  with  incessant  blows. 
The  stout  sails  were  flying  out  of  the  gaskets  that 
bound  them  to  the  yards.  The  staunch  wooden  hull 
was  opening  like  a  basket.  The  ship  was  literally 
being  pounded  to  pieces.  Sir  Hyde  Parker,  lashed 
near  the  kicking 'wheel,  where  four  brawny  quarter- 
masters sweated  as  they  endeavored  to  steer  the  dy- 
ing frigate,  was  heard  to  shout: 

"My  God!  To  think  that  the  wind  could  have 
such  force!" 

There  was  a  terrific  racket  below  decks,  and  fear- 
ing that  one  of  the  guns  might  have  broken  adrift 
from  its  tackles,  Lieutenant  Archer  clambered  into 
the  gloomy  depths,  where  a  marine  officer  hailed 
him,  announcing: 

"Mr.  Archer,  we  are  sinking.  The  water  is  up 
to  the  bottom  of  my  cot.  All  the  cabins  are  awash 
and  the  people  flooded  out." 

"Pooh!  pooh!"  was  the  cheery  answer,  "as  long 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  223 

as  it  is  not  over  your  mouth  you  are  well  off.     What 
the  devil  are  you  making  all  this  noise  about?" 

The  unterrified  Archer  found  much  water  be- 
tween decks,  "but  nothing  to  be  alarmed  at,"  and 
he  told  the  watch  below  to  turn  to  at  the  puniDS, 
shouting  at  them : 

"Come  pump  away,  my  lads!  Will  you  twiddle  your 
thumbs  while  she  drowns  the  lot  of  you?  Carpenters,  get 
the  weather  chain-pump  rigged." 

"Already,  sir." 

"Then  man  it,  and  keep  both  pumps  going.  The  ship 
is  so  distressed  that  she  merely  comes  up  for  air  now  and 
then.  Everything  is  swept  clean  but  the  quarterdeck." 

Presently  one  of  the  pumps  choked,  and  the 
water  gained  in  the  hold,  but  soon  the  bluejackets 
were  swinging  at  the  brakes  again,  while  Lieuten- 
ant Archer  stood  by  and  cheered  them  on.  A  car- 
penter's mate  came  running  up  to  him  with  a  face 
as  long  as  his  arm  and  shouted: 

"Oh,  sir,  the  ship  has  sprung  a  leak  in  the  gun- 


ner's room." 


"Go,  then,  and  tell  the  carpenter  to  come  to  me, 
but  don't  say  a  word  about  it  to  any  one  else." 

When  the  carpenter  came  tumbling  aft  he  was 
told: 

"Mr.  Goodenow,  I  am  informed  there  is  a  leak  in  the 
gunner's  room.  Do  you  go  and  see  what  is  the  matter, 


224     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

i 

but  don't  alarm  anybody  and  come  and  make  your  report 

privately  to  me/' 

"Sir,  there  is  nothing  there,"  announced  the  trusty  car- 
penter, a  few  minutes  later.  "  'T  is  only  the  water  wash- 
ing up  between  the  timbers  that  this  booby  has  taken  for 
a  leak." 

"Oh,  very  well,  go  upon  deck  and  see  if  you  can  keep  the 
water  from  washing  down  below." 

"Sir,  I  have  four  people  constantly  keeping  the  hatch- 
ways secure,  but  there  is  such  a  weight  of  water  upon  the 
deck  that  nobody  can  stand  it  when  the  ship  rolls." 

Just  then  the  gunner  appeared  to  add  his  bit  of 
news. 

"I  thought  some  confounded  thing  was  the  mat- 
ter, and  ran  directly,"  wrote  Lieutenant  Archer. 

"  Well,  what  is  the  trouble  here?" 

"The  ground  tier  of  powder  is  spoiled,"  lamented  the 
faithful  gunner,  "and  I  want  to  show  you,  sir,  that  it  is 
not  because  of  any  carelessness  of  mine  in  stowing  it,  for 
no  powder  in  the  world  could  be  better  stowed.  Now,  sir, 
what  am  I  to  do?  If  you  don't  speak  to  Sir  Hyde  in  my 
behalf,  he  will  be  angry  with  me." 

Archer  smiled  to  see  how  easily  the  gunner  took 
the  grave  danger  of  the  ship  and  replied : 

"Let  us  shake  off  this  gale  of  wind  first  and  talk 
of  the  damaged  powder  later." 

At  the  end  of  his  watch  below,  Archer  thought 
that  the  toiling  gangs  at  the  pumps  had  gained  on 
the  water  a  little.  When  he  returned  to  the  deck 


02 

I 
1 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  225 

he  was  rather  appalled  by  the  situation,  although  his 
courage  was  unshaken.  When  he  later  tried  to  con- 
vey a  picture  of  it  for  the  entertainment  of  his 
mother,  part  of  the  letter  read  like  this: 

If  I  were  to  write  forever,  I  could  not  give  you  an  idea 
of  it — a  total  darkness  all  above;  the  sea  on  fire,  running 
as  it  were  in  Alps  or  Peaks  of  Teneriffe  (mountains  are 
too  common  an  idea)  ;  the  wind  roaring  louder  than  thun- 
der, the  whole  made  more  terrible,  if  possible,  by  a  very  un- 
common kind  of  blue  lightning;  the  poor  ship  very  much 
pressed,  yet  doing  what  she  could,  shaking  her  sides  and 
groaning  at  every  stroke.  Sir  Hyde  was  lashed  upon  the 
deck  to  windward  and  I  soon  lashed  myself  alongside 
of  him  and  told  him  the  state  of  affairs  below,  saying  that 
the  ship  did  not  make  more  water  than  might  be  expected 
in  such  infernal  weather  and  that  I  was  only  afraid  of  a 
gun  breaking  loose. 

"I  am  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  that,"  said  the  captain. 
"I  have  commanded  her  for  six  years  and  have  had  many 
a  gale  of  wind  in  her,  so  that  her  iron  work,  which  always 
gives  way  first,  is  pretty  well  tried.  Hold  fast,  Archer, 
that  was  an  ugly  sea.  We  must  lower  the  yards,  for  the 
ship  is  much  pressed." 

"If  we  attempt  it,  sir,  we  shall  lose  them,  for  a  man  aloft 
can  do  nothing;  besides,  their  being  down  would  ease  the 
ship  very  little;  the  mainmast  is  a  sprung  mast;  I  wish 
it  were  overboard  without  carrying  everything  with  it,  but 
that  can  soon  be  done.  The  gale  cannot  last  forever. 
'T  will  soon  be  daylight  now." 

Found  by  the  master's  watch  that  it  was  five  o'clock, 
glad  it  was  so  near  dawn  and  looked  for  it  with  much 
anxiety.  Cuba,  thou  are  much  in  our  way !  Sent  a  mid- 


226     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

shipman  to  fetch  news  from  the  pumps.  The  ship  was 
filling  with  water  despite  all  their  labor.  The  sea  broke 
halfway  up  the  quarterdeck,  filled  one  of  the  cutters  upon 
the  booms  and  tore  her  all  to  fragments.  The  ship  lying 
almost  upon  her  beam  ends  and  not  attempting  to  right 
again.  Word  from  below  that  the  water  had  gained  so 
fast  they  could  no  longer  stand  to  the  pumps.  I  said  to 
Sir  Hyde : 

"This  is  no  time,  sir,  to  think  of  saving  the  masts. 
Shall  we  cut  away  ?" 

"Aye,  Archer,  as  fast  as  you  can/' 

I  accordingly  went  into  the  chains  with  a  pole-axe  to  cut 
away  the  lanyards ;  the  boatswain  went  to  leeward,  and  the 
carpenters  stood  by  the  mast.  We  were  already  when  a 
very  violent  sea  broke  right  on  board  of  us,  carried  away 
everything  that  was  left  on  deck,  filled  the  ship  with  water, 
the  main  and  mizzen-masts  went,  the  ship  righted  but  was 
in  the  last  struggle  of  sinking  under  us.  As  soon  as  we 
could  shake  our  heads  above  water  Sir  Hyde  exclaimed : 

"We  are  gone  at  last,  Archer, — foundered  at  sea." 

"Yes,  sir.     And  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us." 

The  unlucky  crew  of  the  Phoenix  frigate,  more 
than  three  hundred  souls,  had  behaved  with  dis- 
ciplined fortitude.  The  captain,  who  had  com- 
manded her  for  six  years,  knew  his  ship  and  her 
people,  and  they  had  stood  the  test.  In  this  welter- 
ing chaos  of  wind  and  sea,  which  extended  far  over 
the  Caribbean,  twelve  other  ships  went  down,  all  of 
them  flying  the  white  ensign  of  the  Royal  Navy, 
and  more  than  three  thousand  seamen  perished. 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  227 

Maritime  disasters  were  apt  to  occur  on  a  tremen- 
dous scale  in  those  olden  days  when  ships  sailed  in 
fleets  and  convoys. 

It  was  not  ordained  that  the  brave  and  dogged 
ship's  company  of  the  Phoenix  should  be  entirely 
swallowed  by  the  sea.  While  they  fought  the  last 
fight  for  life  in  the  broken,  sinking  hulk,  the  keel 
thumped  and  ground  along  the  back  of  a  reef. 
Lieutenant  Archer  and  Captain  Sir  Hyde  Parker 
were  floundering  about  together  and  had  given 
themselves  up  for  lost.  The  lieutenant  was  filled 
with  reflections  profoundly  religious,  as  well  as  with 
salt  water,  and  he  took  pains  to  expound  them  at 
length  in  writing  to  his  mother,  and  these  were  a 
great  solace,  no  doubt,  to  the  good  woman  who 
waited  for  infrequent  tidings  in  a  home  of  green 
England.  Sir  Hyde  Parker  was  swearing  and 
spluttering  at  his  men  who  were  crying,  "Lord  have 
mercy  on  us!" 

"Keep  to  the  quarter-deck,  my  boys,  when  she 
goes  to  pieces,"  he  yelled.  "  'T  is  your  best 
chance." 

The  shattered  remnants  of  the  frigate  were  being 
flailed  upon  the  Cuban  reef,  but  the  boatswain  and 
the  carpenter  rallied  volunteers  who  cut  away  the 
foremast,  which  dragged  five  men  to  their  death 
when  it  fell.  All  this  was  in  the  black,  bewildering 


228     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

darkness  just  before  the  stormy  day  began  to  break; 
but  the  crew  held  on  until  they  were  able  to  see  the 
cruel  ledges  and  the  mountainous  coast  which  was 
only  a  few  hundred  feet  away.  Lieutenant  Archer 
was  ready  to  undertake  the  perilous  task  of  trying 
to  swim  ashore  with  a  line,  but  after  he  had  kicked 
off  his  coat  and  shoes  he  said  to  himself : 

This  won't  do,  for  me  to  be  the  first  man  out  of  the  ship, 
and  the  senior  lieutenant  at  that.  We  may  get  to  Eng- 
land again  and  people  may  think  I  paid  a  great  deal  of 
attention  to  myself  and  not  much  to  anybody  else.  No, 
that  won't  do ;  instead  of  being  the  first,  I  '11  see  every 
man,  sick  and  well,  out  of  her  before  me. 

Two  sailors  managed  to  fetch  the  shore,  and  a 
hawser  was  rigged  by  means  of  which  all  of  the  sur- 
vivors succeeded  in  reaching  the  beach.  True  to 
his  word,  Archer  was  the  last  man  to  quit  the  wreck. 
Sir  Hyde  Parker  was  a  man  of  more  emotion  than 
one  might  infer,  and  the  scene  is  appealing  as  the 
lieutenant  describes  it. 

The  captain  came  to  me,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand  was 
so  affected  that  he  was  scarcely  able  to  speak.  "Archer, 
I  am  happy  beyond  expression,  to  see  you  on  shore  but 
look  at  our  poor  Phoenix."  I  turned  about  but  could  not 
say  a  single  word;  my  mind  had  been  too  intensely  occu- 
pied before ;  but  everything  now  rushed  upon  me  at  once, 
so  that  I  could  not  contain  myself,  and  I  indulged  for  a 
full  quarters  of  an  hour  in  tears. 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  229 

The  resourceful  bluejackets  first  entrenched 
themselves  and  saved  what  arms  they  could  find  in 
the  ship,  for  this  was  no  friendly  and  hospitable 
coast.  They  were  on  Spanish  soil,  and  it  was  not 
their  desire  to  be  marched  off  to  the  dungeons  of 
Havana  as  prisoners  of  war.  Tents  and  huts  were 
speedily  contrived,  provisions  rafted  from  the 
wreck,  fires  built,  fish  caught,  and  the  camp  was  a 
going  concern  in  two  or  three  days.  Archer  pro- 
posed that  the  handy  carpenters  mend  one  of  the 
boats  and  that  he  pick  a  crew  to  sail  to  Jamaica  and 
find  rescue.  This  was  promptly  done  and  he  says : 

In  two  days  she  was  ready  and  I  embarked  with  four 
volunteers  and  a  fortnight's  provisions,  hoisted  English 
colors  as  we  put  off  from  the  shore  and  received  three 
cheers  from  the  lads  left  behind,  having  not  the  least  doubt 
that,  with  God's  assistance,  we  should  come  and  bring 
them  all  off.  Had  a  very  squally  night  and  a  very  leaky 
boat  so  as  to  keep  two  buckets  constantly  baling.  Steered 
her  myself  the  whole  night  by  the  stars  and  in  the  morn- 
ing saw  the  coast  of  Jamaica  distant  twelve  leagues.  At 
eight  in  the  evening  arrived  at  Montego  Bay. 

This  dashing  lieutenant  was  not  one  to  let  the 
grass  grow  under  his  feet,  and  he  sent  a  messenger 
to  the  British  admiral,  another  to  the  man-of-war, 
Porcupine,  and  hustled  off  to  find  vessels  on  his  own 
account.  All  the  frigates  of  the  station  were  at  sea, 
but  Archer  commandeered  three  fishing  craft  and  a 


230     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

little  trading  brig  and  put  to  sea  with  his  squadron. 
Four  days  after  he  had  left  his  shipwrecked  com- 
rades he  was  back  again,  and  they  hoisted  him  upon 
their  shoulders  and  so  lugged  him  up  to  Sir  Hyde 
Parker's  tent  as  the  hero  of  the  occasion.  The 
Porcupine  arrived  a  little  later,  so  there  was  plenty 
of  help  for  the  marooned  British  tars.  Two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  of  them  were  carried  to  Jamaica.  Of 
the  others  "some  had  died  of  the  wounds  they  re- 
ceived in  getting  on  shore,  some  of  drinking  rum, 
and  a  few  had  straggled  off  into  the  country." 

Lieutenant  Archer  was  officially  commended  for 
the  part  he  had  played,  and  was  promoted  to  com- 
mand the  frigate  Tobago  after  a  few  months  of  duty 
on  the  admiral's  staff.  You  will  like  to  hear,  I  am 
sure,  how  he  wound  up  the  long  letter  home  which 
contained  the  story  of  the  last  cruise  of  the  Phoenix. 

I  must  now  begin  to  leave  off,  else  my  letter  will  lose  its 
passage,  which  I  should  not  like,  after  being  ten  days  at 
different  times  writing  it,  beating  up  with  a  convoy  to 
the  northward,  which  is  a  reason  that  this  epistle  will 
never  read  well,  for  I  never  sat  down  with  a  proper  disposi- 
tion to  go  on  with  it.  But  as  I  knew  something  of  the 
kind  would  please  you,  I  was  resolved  to  finish  it;  yet  it 
will  not  bear  an  overhaul,  so  don't  expose  your  son's  non- 
sense. You  must  promise  that  should  any  one  see  it  be- 
side yourself,  they  must  put  this  construction  on  it — that 
it  was  originally  intended  for  the  eyes  of  a  mother  only 
— as  upon  that  supposition  my  feelings  may  be  tolerated. 


H.  M.  S.  PHOENIX  231 

You  will  also  meet  with  a  number  of  sea  terms  which  if 
you  do  not  understand,  why,  I  cannot  help  you,  as  I  am 
unable  to  give  a  sea  description  in  any  other  words.  I 
remain  His  Majesty's  most  true  and  faithful  servant  and 
my  dear  mother's  most  dutiful  son. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   ROARING   DAYS   OF   PIRACY 

In  Bristowe  I  left  Poll  ashore, 
Well  stocked  wi'  togs  an'  gold, 

And  off  I  goes  to  sea  for  more, 
A  piratin'  so  bold. 

An'  wounded  in  the  arm  I  got, 
An'  then  a  pretty  blow ; 

Come  home  to  find  Poll's  flowed  away, 

Yo,  ho,  with  the  rum  below ! 

IT  was  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, two  hundred  years  ago,  when  the  merchant 
voyager  ran  as  great  a  risk  of  being  taken  by  pirates 
as  he  did  of  suffering  shipwreck.  Within  a  brief 
period  flourished  most  of  the  picturesque  scoundrels 
who  have  some  claim  to  distinction.  Blackbeard 
terrified  the  Atlantic  coast  from  Boston  to  Charles- 
ton until  a  cutlass  cut  him  down  in  1717.  He  was 
a  most  satisfactory  figure  of  a  theatrical  pirate,  al- 
ways strutting  in  the  center  of  the  stage,  and  many 
othes  who  came  later  were  mere  imitations.  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  was  able  to  imagine  nothing  better 
than  Blackbeard's  true  sea- journal,  written  with  his 

232 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    233 

own  wicked  hand,  which  contained  such  fascinating 
entries  as  this : 

Such  a  day,  rum  all  out; — our  company  somewhat 
sober ; — a  damned  confusion  amongst  us !  Rogues  a-plot- 
ting — great  talk  of  separation — so  I  look  sharp  for  a 
prize.  Took  one  with  a  great  deal  of  liquor  on  board ; — 
so  kept  the  company  drunk,  damned  drunk,  then  all  things 
went  well  again. 

Captain  Avery  was  plundering  the  treasure- 
laden  galleons  of  the  Great  Mogul  off  the  coast  of 
Madagascar  in  1718,  and  was  reported  to  have 
stolen  a  daughter  of  that  magnificent  potentate  as 
his  bride,  while  "his  adventures  were  the  subject  of 
general  conversation  in  Europe."  The  flamboyant 
career  of  Captain  Bartholomew  Roberts  began  in 
1719,  that  "tall,  dark  man"  whose  favorite  toast  was 
"Damnation  to  him  who  lives  to  wear  a  halter,"  and 
who  always  wore  in  action  a  rich  crimson  damask 
waistcoat  and  breeches,  a  red  feather  in  his  hat,  a 
gold  chain  and  diamond  cross  around  his  neck,  a 
sword  in  his  hand,  and  two  pairs  of  pistols  hanging 
at  the  ends  of  a  silk  sling  flung  over  his  shoulder. 

In  this  same  year  Captain  Ned  England  was  tak- 
ing his  pick  of  the  colonial  merchantmen  which 
were  earning  a  respectable  livelihood  in  the  slave- 
trade  of  the  Guinea  coast.  He  displayed  his  merry 
and  ingenious  spirit  by  ordering  his  crew  to  pelt  to 


234     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

death  with  broken  rum-bottles  a  captured  ship- 
master whose  face  and  manners  displeased  him. 
Mary  Read,  the  successful  woman  pirate,  was  then 
in  the  full  tide  of  her  exploits  and  notably  demon- 
strated that  a  woman  had  a  right  to  lead  her  own 
life.  When  her  crew  presumed  to  argue  with  her, 
she  pistoled  them  with  her  own  fair  hand,  and  neatly 
killed  in  a  duel  a  rash  gentleman  pirate  who  had 
been  foolish  enough  to  threaten  her  lover.  When 
asked  why  she  preferred  a  vocation  so  hazardous, 
Mary  Read  replied  that  "as  to  hanging,  she  thought 
it  no  great  hardship,  for  were  it  not  for  that  every 
cowardly  fellow  would  turn  pirate  and  so  infest  the 
seas  and  men  of  courage  would  starve." 

It  was  in  the  same  period  that  the  bold  Captain 
John  Quelch  of  Marblehead  stretched  hemp,  with 
five  of  his  comrades,  and  a  Salem  poet  was  inspired 
to  write : 

Ye  pirates  who  against  God's  laws  did  fight, 
Have  all  been  taken  which  is  very  right. 

Some  of  them  were  old  and  others  young 
And  on  the  flats  of  Boston  they  were  hung. 

In  1724  two  notorious  sea-rovers,  Nutt  and 
Phillip,  were  cruising  off  Cape  Ann  within  sight  of 
Salem  harbor's  mouth.  They  took  a  sloop  com- 
manded by  one  Andrew  Harraden,  and  thereby 
caught  a  Tartar.  Harraden  and  his  sailors  erupted 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    235 

from  the  hold  into  which  they  had  been  flung,  killed 
Nutt  and  Phillip  and  their  officers,  tossed  the  rest 
of  the  rascals  down  below,  and  sailed  into  Boston 
Harbor,  where  their  cargo  of  pirates  speedily  fur- 
nished another  entertainment  for  the  populace  that 
trooped  to  the  row  of  gibbets  on  the  flats  of  the 
town.  The  old  sea-chronicles  of  New  England  are 
filled  with  episodes  of  these  misfortunes,  encoun- 
ters, and  escapes  until  the  marvel  grows  that  the  sea- 
men of  those  quaint  brigs,  ketches,  and  scows  could 
be  persuaded  to  set  out  from  port  at  all.  The  ap- 
palling risk  became  a  habit,  no  doubt,  just  as  the 
people  of  to-day  dare  to  use  the  modern  highway 
on  which  automobiles  slay  many  more  victims  than 
ever  the  pirates  made  to  walk  the  plank. 

The  experience  of  an  unlucky  master  mariner  in 
that  era  of  the  best-known  and  most  successful  pi- 
rates may  serve  to  convey  a  realization  of  the  gam- 
ble with  fortune  which  overshadowed  every  trading 
voyage  when  the  perils  of  the  deep  were  so  cruel 
and  so  manifold.  And  it  is  easy  to  comprehend 
why  the  bills  of  lading  included  this  petition,  "And 
so  God  send  the  good  sloop  to  her  desired  port  in 
safety.  Amen." 

In  the  year  of  1718  the  Bird  galley  sailed  from 
England  in  command  of  Captain  Snelgrave  to  find 
a  cargo  of  slaves  on  the  coast  of  Sierra  Leone. 


236     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  galley,  as  sailors  then  used  the  term,  was  a 
small,  square-rigged  vessel  not  unlike  a  brig,  al- 
though properly  the  name  belonged  to  craft  pro- 
pelled by  oars  as  well  as  sails;  but  seamen  in  all 
ages  have  had  a  confusing  habit  of  mixing  the  vari- 
ous classifications  of  vessels.  It  was  nothing 
against  the  character  of  Captain  Snelgrave  that 
he  was  bound  out  to  the  Gold  Coast  in  the  rum  and 
nigger  trade.  The  ship-chandlers  of  Liverpool 
made  special  displays  in  their  windows  of  handcuff s, 
leg-shackles,  iron  collars,  short  and  long  chains,  and 
furnaces  and  copper  kettles  designed  for  slave- 
ships.  The  English  Missionary  Society  owned  a 
plantation  and  worked  it  with  slaves.  In  America 
the  New  England  colonies  took  the  lead  in  the  slave- 
trade,  and  the  enterprising  lads  of  the  coastwise 
ports  sought  berths  in  the  forecastles  of  the  African 
traders  because  of  the  chance  of  profit  and  promo- 
tion. It  was  not  held  to  the  discredit  of  John  Paul 
Jones  that  he  learned  seamanship  before  the  mast  in 
the  slaver  King  George  before  he  hoisted  the  first 
naval  ensign  of  the  United  States  above  the  quar- 
ter-deck of  an  American  man-of-war. 

No  sooner  had  the  Bird  galley  dropped  anchor 
in  the  river  of  Sierra  Leone  than  three  pirate  ships 
came  bowling  in  with  a  fair  breeze.  They  had  been 
operating  together  and  had  already  captured  ten 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    237 

English  vessels.  Captain  Snelgrave  eyed  these  un- 
pleasant visitors  with  suspicion,  but  hoped  they 
might  be  on  the  same  errand  as  himself.  At  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  however,  he  heard  the  mea- 
sured thump  of  oars  and  descried  the  shadow  of  an 
approaching  boat.  The  first  mate  was  ordered  to 
muster  and  arm  twenty  men  on  deck  in  readiness  to 
repel  boarders.  The  second  mate  hailed  the  boat 
and  was  answered;  "The  ship  Two  Friends  of  Bar- 
badoes,  Captain  Elliott."  This  failed  to  satisfy  the 
master  of  the  Bird  galley,  and  he  shouted  to  the 
boat  to  sheer  off  and  keep  clear. 

A  volley  of  musket-balls  was  the  reply  from  the 
boat,  and  the  first  mate  of  the  Bird  was  told  to  re- 
turn the  fire.  His  men  stood  idle,  however,  and  it 
transpired  that  he  cherished  secret  ambitions  of  be- 
ing a  pirate  himself  and  had  won  over  several  of  the 
crew.  This  was  extremely  embarrassing  for  Cap- 
tain Shelgrave,  who  was  compelled  to  witness  the 
marauders  scramble  unresisted  up  the  side  of  his 
vessel.  The  leader  of  the  pirates  was  in  a  particu- 
larly nasty  temper  because  the  mate  had  been  or- 
dered to  open  fire,  and  he  poked  a  pistol  into  the 
captain's  face  and  pulled  trigger.  As  quick  as  he 
was  courageous,  the  skipper  knocked  the  weapon 
aside,  and  was  promptly  felled  with  the  butt  of  it. 
Dodging  along  the  deck,  the  pirate  boatswain 


238     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

swung  at  him  with  a  broadsword  and  missed  his 
mark,  the  blade  biting  deep  into  the  oaken  rail. 

There  was  a  grain  of  spunk  left  in  the  crew  of 
the  Bird,  and  they  rushed  upon  the  evil  boatswain 
before  he  could  kill  the  captain.  For  this  behavior 
they  were  mercilessly  slashed  with  cutlasses,  kicked 
and  cursed,  and  then  trussed  in  a  row.  With  a 
touch  of  ferocious  whimsicality  the  pirate  chief  de- 
clared that  he  would  let  Captain  Snelgrave  be  tried 
by  his  own  crew.  If  they  had  any  complaints  to 
make  of  him  as  a  shipmaster,  he  would  be  swung  to 
a  yard,  and  they  should  haul  the  rope.  He  must 
have  been  a  just  and  humane  man,  for  not  a  sailor 
voiced  a  grudge,  and  the  ruffians  appeared  to  for- 
get all  about  murder.  After  firing  volleys  to  let 
their  ships  know  that  a  prize  had  been  captured, 
they  turned  with  tremendous  enthusiasm  to  the  busi- 
ness of  guzzling  and  feasting. 

The  captive  sailors  were  released,  and  told  to 
dress  all  the  hens,  ducks,  and  geese  that  were  in  the 
coops  on  deck;  but  no  sooner  were  the  heads 
chopped  off  than  these  childish  blackguards  refused 
to  have  supper  delayed.  The  Bird  carried  a  huge 
furnace,  or  oven,  contrived  for  cooking  the  food  of 
the  five  hundred  slaves  which  were  expected  aboard. 
Into  a  roaring  fire  the  pirates  flung  the  hens,  ducks, 
and  geese,  feathers  and  all,  and  hauled  them  out  as 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    239 

soon  as  they  were  singed  and  scorched.  The  same 
culinary  method  was  employed  for  half  a  dozen 
Westphalia  hams  and  a  sow  with  a  dozen  little  pigs. 
A  few  finicky  pirates  commanded  the  ship's  cook, 
under  pain  of  death,  to  boil  the  meat  in  the  great 
copper  caldrons  designed  for  the  slaves'  porridge. 

The  prodigious  banquet  made  these  unmannerly 
guests  feel  in  better  humor,  and  they  even  told  their 
surgeon  to  dress  the  wounds  of  the  Bird's  sailors. 
They  amused  themselves  by  playing  foot-ball  with 
Captain  Snelgrave's  excellent  gold  watch,  and 
drank  themselves  into  a  state  of  boisterous  joviality. 
The  old  record  puts  it  mildly,  to  say  the  least,  in  af- 
firming that  "the  captain's  situation  was  by  no 
means  an  agreeable  one,  even  under  these  circum- 
stances, as  ferocious  men  are  generally  capricious. 
He  now  fared  very  hard,  enduring  great  fatigue 
with  patience,  and  submitting  resignedly  to  the  Al- 
mighty will." 

Before  the  wild  night  ended  he  was  taken  aboard 
the  pirates'  flagship,  where  he  was  questioned  by  a 
sort  of  commodore  or  commander-in-chief  of  the 
squadron.  His  name  was  Cocklyn,  and  he  had  am- 
bitions to  conduct  operations  on  a  scale  even  larger. 
He  wanted  to  win  over  the  Bird's  crew  and  to  fly 
his  black  pennant  from  her,  as  his  talk  disclosed, 
and  this  was  why  the  lives  of  her  company  had  been 


240     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

spared.  Now  occurred  one  of  those  romantic  in- 
cidents which  the  novelist  would  hesitate  to  invent 
as  stretching  the  probabilities,  but  in  these  ancient 
narratives  of  the  sea  things  were  set  down  as  they 
actually  happened.  This  is  how  the  story  was  writ- 
ten in  1724: 

Soon  after  the  captain  was  on  board  the  pirate  ship,  a 
tall  man,  well  armed,  came  up  to  him  and  told  him  his  name 
was  Jack  Griffin,  one  of  his  old  school-fellows.  Upon 
Captain  Snelgrave  appearing  not  to  recollect  him,  he  men- 
tioned many  pranks  of  their  youth  together.  He  said  he 
was  forced  into  the  pirate  service  while  chief  mate  of  a 
British  vessel  and  was  later  compelled  to  act  as  master  of 
one  of  the  pirate  ships.  His  crew  he  described  as  most 
atrocious  miscreants.  This  Jack  Griffin,  a  bold  and  ready 
man,  promised  to  watch  over  the  captain's  safety,  as  the 
pirates  would  soon  be  worse  intoxicated  with  the  liquors 
on  board  their  prize. 

Griffin  now  obtained  a  bowl  of  punch  and  led  the  way  to 
the  cabin,  where  a  carpet  was  spread  to  sit  upon,  as  the 
pirate  ship  was  always  kept  clear  for  action.  They  sat 
down  cross-legged,  and  Cocklyn,  the  chief  captain,  drank 
Snelgrave's  health,  saying  his  crew  had  spoken  well  of  him. 
A  hammock  was  slung  for  Captain  Snelgrave  at  night,  by 
the  intercession  of  Griffin,  but  the  pirates  lay  rough,  as 
they  styled  it,  because  their  vessel,  as  already  observed, 
was  always  cleared  for  action. 

Griffin,  true  to  his  promise  of  guarding  his  old  school- 
fellow while  asleep,  kept  near  the  captain's  hammock, 
sword  in  hand,  to  protect  him  from  insults.  Towards 
morning,  while  the  pirates  were  carousing  on  deck,  the 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    241 

boatswain  came  toward  the  hammock  in  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation, swearing  that  he  would  slice  the  captain  for  or- 
dering the  crew  to  fire,  dragged  him  from  his  hammock, 
and  would,  no  doubt,  have  executed  his  savage  threat  if 
it  had  not  been  for  Griffin  who,  as  the  boatswain  pressed 
forward  to  stab  the  sleeping  Captain  Snelgrave,  cut  at  the 
fellow  with  his  sword  and  after  a  sharp  struggle  suc- 
ceeded in  beating  him  off.  At  length  the  wretches  fell 
asleep  and  the  captain  was  no  longer  molested.  Griffin 
next  day  complained  of  the  boatswain's  conduct  and  he 
was  threatened  with  a  whipping.  However,  Captain  Snel- 
grave wisely  pleaded  for  him,  by  saying  he  was  in  liquor. 

Shielded  from  harm  by  this  lawless,  but  devoted, 
old  school-mate  of  his,  the  master  of  the  Bird  galley 
was  in  no  great  danger  of  being  sliced  by  some 
impulsive  pirate  who  was  careless  with  a  cutlass. 
His  perfidious  first  mate  and  ten  of  the  sailors  now 
signed  on  as  pirates  and  assisted  the  others  in  ran- 
sacking Captain  Snelgrave's  unfortunate  ship. 
Such  merchandise  as  did  not  happen  to  please  their 
fancy  was  pitched  overboard,  and  they  saved  little 
more  than  the  provisions,  the  clothing,  and  the  gold 
coin.  They  were  like  a  gang  of  hoodlums  on  a 
lark,  and  wanton  destruction  was  their  very  stupid 
idea  of  a  pastime.  This  wild  carnival  went  on  for 
several  days.  Barrels  of  claret  and  brandy  were 
hoisted  on  deck,  the  heads  knocked  in,  and  the 
drink  baled  out  with  cans  and  buckets  until  the 
roisterers  could  hold  not  another  swallow.  Then 


242     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

they  doused  one  another  with  buckets  of  claret  and 
good  French  brandy  as  they  ran  roaring  around  the 
deck. 

Bottled  liquors  were  opened  by  whacking  off  the 
necks  with  cutlasses.  They  pelted  one  another 
with  cheeses,  and  emptied  the  tubs  of  butter  to  slide 
in.  One  of  these  sportive  pirates  dressed  himself 
in  the  captain's  shore-going  black  suit  and  his  best 
hat  and  wig,  strutted  among  his  comrades  until 
they  drenched  him  with  claret,  and  then  chucked 
the  wardrobe  overboard.  You  will  be  gratified  to 
learn  that  "this  man,  named  Kennedy,  ended  his 
career  in  Execution  Dock." 

Of  the  two  other  pirate  ships  then  in  the  river  of 
Sierra  Leone  one  was  British  and  the  other  French. 
The  English  commander  was  one  of  the  brave  and 
resourceful  sea-rogues  of  his  era,  a  fighting  seaman 
in  whom  survived  the  spirit  of  those  desperate  ad- 
venturers of  the  seventeenth  century  who  followed 
Morgan  to  Panama  and  hunted  the  stately  Span- 
ish galleons  with  Hawkins  and  Dampier  in  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Pacific.  This  was  the  famous  Captain 
Davis,  who  would  sooner  storm  a  fort  or  take  a 
town  at  the  head  of  a  landing  party  than  to  loot  a 
helpless  merchantman.  He  had  attempted  to  com- 
bine forces  with  these  other  pirates  at  Sierra  Leone 
and  had  been  formally  elected  admiral  in  a  council 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    243 

of  war.  But  he  found  reason  to  suspect  the  good 
faith  of  his  associates,  whereupon  he  summoned 
them  into  his  cabin  and  told  them  to  their  faces : 

Hear  ye,  you  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise  (the  French  cap- 
tain), I  find  that  by  strengthening  you  I  have  put  a  rod 
into  your  hands  to  whip  myself,  but  I  am  able  to  deal  with 
you  both.  However,  since  we  met  in  love  let  us  part  in 
love,  for  I  find  that  three  of  a  trade  can  never  agree  long 
together. 

Captain  Davis  was  getting  ready  for  a  cruise  on 
his  own  account,  with  the  design  of  attacking  the 
garrison  of  one  of  the  Portuguese  settlements  on 
the  African  coast,  but  he  found  time  to  interest  him- 
self in  the  affairs  of  poor  Captain  Snelgrave  of  the 
Bird  galley.  It  may  have  been  a  spark  of  genuine 
manliness  and  sportsmanship,  or  dislike  of  the  slip- 
pery Cocklyn,  but  at  any  rate  Captain  Davis  in- 
terceded in  his  own  high-handed  manner  and  told 
the  rascals  to  give  the  plundered  Bird  back  to  her 
master  and  to  treat  him  decently. 

This  altered  the  situation.  Captain  Davis  was 
the  king  wolf  of  the  pack,  and  his  bite  was  much 
worse  than  his  bark.  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise  were 
disposed  to  resent  this  interference  and  hung  back  a 
little,  at  which  the  black  flag  was  run  up  to  the  mast- 
head of  Captain  Davis's  formidable  ship,  and  the 
gun-ports  were  dropped  with  a  clatter  to  show  a 


244     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

crew,  disciplined  and  sober,  with  matches  lighted, 
and  handspikes  and  tackles  ready. 

Very  promptly  the  Bird  galley  was  restored  to 
Captain  Snelgrave,  but  before  going  to  sea  Captain 
Davis  was  rowed  ashore  for  a  farewell  chat  with  a 
friend  of  his  named  Glynn.  This  man  was  living 
at  Sierra  Leone  for  reasons  unknown,  probably  in 
trade  of  some  kind,  and  the  only  information  con- 
cerning him  is  that  "although  he  had  suffered  from 
pirates,  he  was  on  good  terms  with  them  and  yet 
kept  his  hands  free  from  their  guilt."  He  must 
have  been  a  two-fisted  person  with  a  backbone  of 
steel,  for  Captain  Davis  was  satisfied  to  intrust  to 
his  care  the  broken  fortunes  of  the  master  of  the 
Bird  galley. 

Soon  after  the  tall  ship  of  Captain  Davis  was 
wafted  seaward  with  the  breeze  that  drew  off  the 
land,  the  pirates  twain,  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise,  were 
invited  to  dinner  at  the  house  of  Captain  Glynn. 
The  other  guest  was  Captain  Snelgrave,  who  dis- 
covered that  the  wind  had  suddenly  shifted  in  his 
favor  and  he  was  treated  with  the  most  distinguished 
cordiality  and  respect.  Fresh  clothing  was  offered 
him,  and  he  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  one  of  Captain 
Glynn's  clean  shirts.  It  was  explained  that  the 
Bird  was  uncommonly  well  adapted  for  fitting  out 
as  a  pirate  ship  because  she  had  flush  decks  for 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    245 

mounting  guns  and  was  sharply  molded  for  fast 
sailing.  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise  politely  suggested 
that  they  keep  her  for  their  own  use  and  give  to 
Captain  Snelgrave  a  merchant  vessel  of  larger  ton- 
nage which  had  been  recently  captured.  By  way 
of  making  amends  for  their  rudeness,  they  would  be 
delighted  to  replace  his  ruined  cargo  with  merchan- 
dise taken  from  other  prizes,  and  he  could  take  his 
pick  of  the  stuff. 

This  was  a  delicate  problem  for  Captain  Snel- 
grave to  decide.  The  ethical  codes  of  the  pirates 
were  so  much  more  unconventional  than  his  own 
that  they  failed  to  see  why  he  should  hesitate  to  sail 
home  to  England  in  a  stolen  ship  with  a  cargo  of 
looted  merchandise.  Tactfully,  but  firmly,  he  de- 
clined the  offer,  at  which  they  hopefully  suggested 
that  he  might  change  his  mind  and,  anyhow,  they 
would  do  their  best  to  straighten  things  out  for 
him.  It  was  a  pleasant  little  dinner  party,  but  it 
is  plausible  to  infer  that  the  thought  of  the  absent 
Captain  Davis  hung  over  it  like  a  grim  shadow. 

Next  day  the  abandoned  merchantman  which  had 
been  offered  to  Captain  Snelgrave  was  towed  along- 
side the  Bird  galley,  and  all  of  his  cargo  that  had 
escaped  destruction  was  transferred  by  his  own 
crew.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  it,  after  all,  for  it 
had  consisted  largely  of  salted  provisions  and  bolts 


246     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

of  cloth  for  the  slave  market,  and  the  wanton  pirates 
had  tired  of  the  game  before  they  got  into  the  lower 
holds.  Captain  Snelgrave  moved  ashore  and  found 
a  comfortable  refuge  in  the  house  of  Captain 
Glynn. 

Retribution  now  overtook  that  truculent  pirate, 
the  boatswain,  who  had  first  attempted  to  blow  out 
the  brains  of  Captain  Snelgrave  and  then  to  slice 
him  in  his  hammock.  He  fell  very  ill  of  tropical 
fever  and  rum,  and  realizing  that  he  had  come  to  the 
end  of  his  cable,  he  sent  for  the  skipper  and  im- 
plored forgiveness.  It  is  solemnly  recorded  that 
"this  man  fell  into  a  delirium  the  same  night  and 
died  before  the  morning,  cursing  God  his  maker  in 
such  a  frightful  manner  that  it  affected  several  of 
the  pirates  who  were  yet  novices  in  that  mode  of  life, 
and  they  came  privately,  in  consequence,  to  obtain 
Captain  Snelgrave's  advice  how  they  should  get  out 
of  their  evil  course.  A  proclamation  of  pardon  had 
been  issued  to  all  pirates  who  surrendered  before 
July  1,  1719,  and  the  captain  advised  them  to  em- 
brace the  pardon  so  tendered." 

Still  refusing  to  accept  the  gift  of  a  purloined 
ship,  the  captain  persuaded  the  pirates  to  remove  all 
his  cargo  ashore,  which  they  cheerfully  did  and  built 
a  shelter  to  cover  it.  Then  they  busied  themselves 
at  the  task  of  arming  the  Bird  for  their  own  wicked 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    247 

use,  and  were  amazingly  sober  and  industrious  for 
as  much  as  a  fortnight.  When  they  were  ready  to 
put  the  ship  into  commission,  Captain  Snelgrave 
was  invited  aboard  to  a  jollification  in  his  own 
cabin.  There  was  a  certain  etiquette  to  be  fol- 
lowed, it  seemed,  and  the  observance  was  punc- 
tilious. Toasts  were  drunk  to  a  lucky  cruise,  and 
every  man  smashed  his  glass  upon  the  table  or  floor. 
The  ship  was  renamed  the  Windham  Galley,  and 
they  all  trooped  out  on  deck  and  waved  their  hats 
and  huzzaed  when  the  Jolly  Roger  broke  out  of 
stops  and  showed  aloft  like  a  sinister  blot  against 
the  clean  sky  from  the  mast  which  had  displayed  the 
British  ensign.  The  new  batteries  were  fired  in 
salute,  with  a  great  noise  and  clouds  of  gunpowder 
smoke,  and  then,  of  course,  all  hands  proceeded  to 
get  most  earnestly  drunk  though  they  laid  no  violent 
hands  upon  Captain  Snelgrave. 

The  ships  were  still  in  the  harbor  when  the  re- 
doubtable Captain  Davis  came  sailing  in  from  his 
voyage.  It  had  been  shorter  than  expected,  for 
rich  booty  was  overtaken  at  sea,  and  he  delayed  the 
adventure  with  the  Portuguese  fort  until  he  could 
dispose  of  his  profits  and  refit.  First,  he  had  laid 
alongside  two  English  and  one  Scotch  ship  and 
lifted  out  of  them  such  goods  as  attracted  his  fancy, 
permitting  them  to  proceed.  A  few  days  later  the 


248     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

lookout  aloft  sighted  a  sail  and,  in  the  words  of  the 
record,  "it  may  be  proper  to  inform  our  readers 
that,  according  to  the  laws  of  pirates,  the  man  who 
first  discovers  a  sail  is  entitled  to  the  best  pair  of  pis- 
tols in  the  ship  and  such  is  the  honor  attached  to 
these  that  a  pair  of  them  has  been  known  to  sell  for 
thirty  pounds." 

Captain  Davis  chased  this  tempting  ship  until  she 
drove  ashore  and  the  terrified  crew  took  to  the 
jungle.  She  proved  to  be  a  gorgeous  prize,  a 
heavily  armed  packet,  "having  on  board  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Acra,  with  all  his  substance,  going  to  Hol- 
land. There  was  in  her  money  to  the  amount  of 
fifteen  thousand  pounds,  besides  a  large  quantity  of 
merchant  goods  and  other  valuable  articles."  This 
ship  had  the  men  and  guns  to  have  stood  up  to  it 
and  given  Captain  Davis  a  battle  royal,  but  the 
sight  of  his  evil  flag,  and  perhaps  his  own  bloody 
repute,  made  cowards  of  them.  It  was  quite  other- 
wise with  another  Dutchman  overhauled  soon  after 
this.  These  stolid  seamen  had  the  proverbial  tenac- 
ity of  their  race,  and  they  scorned  the  notion  of  haul- 
ing down  colors  at  the  sight  of  a  scurvy  pirate.  To 
the  insolent  summons  they  replied  with  a  broadside 
and  killed  nine  surprised  pirates,  who  were  smelling 
brimstone  in  another  world  before  they  realized 
how  it  happened. 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    249 

Excessively  annoyed,  Captain  Davis  closed  in, 
and  soon  found  that  he  had  a  hard  nut  to  crack. 
With  thirty  guns  and  ninety  men  the  Dutchman 
stood  him  off,  and  they  fought  a  stubbornly  heroic 
sea  action  that  lasted  from  one  o'clock  at  noon  until 
after  daylight  next  morning,  occasionally  hauling 
off  for  rest  and  repairs  and  tackling  each  other 
again,  hammer  and  tongs.  Finally  the  Dutchman 
had  to  strike,  for  he  was  outfought  by  men  better 
drilled  and  practised.  Captain  Davis  respected 
their  valor,  and  there  was  no  mention  of  making 
them  walk  the  plank.  The  fifty  survivors  were 
taken  aboard  his  own  ship  to  save  their  lives,  for 
their  own  ship  was  so  smashed  and  splintered  that 
she  sank  soon  after. 

Reaching  Sierra  Leone,  Captain  Davis  invited 
Captain  Snelgrave  aboard  for  supper  in  order  to 
learn  how  affairs  had  been  going  with  him.  At  the 
end  of  a  successful  cruise,  the  cutthroats  had  to  be 
handled  with  a  loose  rein.  They  expected  a  grand 
carouse  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  such  a  leader  as 
Captain  Davis  was  wise  enough  to  close  his  eyes 
until  he  was  ready  to  put  the  screws  on  again  and 
prepare  for  another  adventure.  Most  of  the  ship's 
company  were  properly  drunk  when  the  alarm  of 
fire  was  shouted.  A  lighted  lantern  had  been  over- 
turned among  the  rum-casks,  and  the  flames  were 


250     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

running  into  the  hold.  Amid  the  shouting  and  con- 
fusion, the  sober  men  tumbled  into  boats  and  pulled 
for  the  shore.  The  fire  was  eating  straight  toward 
the  magazine,  in  which  were  stowed  thirty  thousand 
pounds  of  gunpowder. 

One  pirate,  who  was  both  astonishingly  brave  and 
sober,  dropped  through  a  hatchway,  groped  through 
the  smoke,  and  yelled  that  unless  they  fetched  him 
blankets  and  buckets  of  water  the  ship  would  blow 
up.  Captain  Snelgrave  gathered  all  the  rugs  and 
blankets  he  could  find  and  rushed  below  to  join  the 
fellow.  Other  men  rallied  when  led  by  Captain 
Davis,  and  formed  a  bucket  brigade  to  douse  the 
blankets  and  stuff  them  against  the  bulkhead  of  the 
magazine.  It  was  a  ticklish  situation,  taking  it  by 
and  large, 

for  the  night  was  dark,  the  crew  drunk,  and  no  hope  of 
mastering  the  fire  seemed  to  remain.  To  spring  into  the 
water  was  certain  death,  from  the  sharks  hovering  around 
the  vessel.  Having  accomplished  all  that  he  was  able, 
Captain  Snelgrave  snatched  up  a  quarter-boat  grating 
and  lowered  it  with  a  rope,  hoping  to  float  away  upon  that, 
as  several  persons  had  gone  off  with  the  boats.  While 
the  captain  was  thus  meditating  his  escape  he  heard  a 
shout  from  the  main-deck,  "Now  for  a  brave  blast  to  go  to 
hell  with.'9  On  which  some  of  the  newly  entered  pirates 
near  him,  believing  the  ship  must  blow  up  in  a  few  min- 
utes, lamented  their  entering  on  that  vile  course  of  life, 
with  bitter  exclamations  against  the  hardened  offenders  on 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    251 

the  main-deck  who  dared  to  blaspheme  in  such  an  hour 
as  this. 

Fifty  of  the  crew  crawled  out  upon  the  bowsprit 
and  sprit-sail  yard,  where  they  clung  and  hoped  to 
be  blown  clear  of  the  general  upheaval.  They 
handsomely  deserved  extermination,  but  a  dozen 
gallant  volunteers  still  toiled  and  suffered  in  the 
hold,  and  at  length  they  smothered  the  fire  before  it 
ate  into  the  magazine.  All  of  them  were  terribly 
burned,  and  it  is  fair  to  assume  that  Captain  Davis 
awarded  them  an  extra  share  of  the  plunder  when  it 
was  distributed.  One  of  the  heroes  of  the  crisis  was 
Captain  Snelgrave,  or  so  the  pirates  admiringly 
agreed,  and  they  were  more  than  ever  anxious  to 
befriend  him.  They  would  have  been  glad  to  serve 
under  him,  but  he  had  no  taste  for  piracy  and  de- 
clined the  honor  when  a  vote  was  passed  around 
the  tubs  of  grog  that  he  go  as  a  sailing  master  until 
he  had  gained  experience  and  was  ready  to  com- 
mand a  crew  of  gentlemen  of  fortune. 

Disappointed  in  this,  they  used  their  gold  to  buy 
back  for  him  a  considerable  amount  of  his  cargo, 
which  had  been  divided  or  sold  ashore,  and  presented 
him  with  some  of  the  merchandise  allotted  to  them 
from  the  ships  lately  captured  by  Captain  Davis. 
There  were  worse  pirates  on  the  high  seas  than  this 
collection  of  gallows-birds  in  the  harbor  of  Sierra 


252     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Leone,  and  merchant  mariners  much  less  admirable 
than  this  London  slave-trader,  Captain  Snelgrave. 
Thanks  to  the  exertions  of  the  solicitous  pirates,  he 
gathered  together  sufficient  possessions  to  retrieve 
the  voyage  from  complete  disaster,  and  the  stuff  was 
saved  from  harm  in  the  rough  warehouse  ashore, 
where  the  kindly  Captain  Glynn  was  a  vigilant 
guardian. 

The  pirates  were  now  ready  to  depart  on  their  dis- 
reputable business,  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise  sailing  in 
company,  while  Captain  Davis  ranged  off  alone. 
This  time  he  carried  out  his  purpose  of  raiding  the 
Portuguese  colony,  the  military  governor  of  which 
received  warning  from  a  coasting  vessel  and  accord- 
ingly strengthened  his  defenses  and  armed  every 
able-bodied  man.  Captain  Davis  led  his  pirates 
from  their  boats  and  stormed  the  fort  under  a  heavy 
fire. 

The  Portuguese  governor  was  a  fighting  man 
himself  and  he  gave  as  good  as  he  took.  The 
pirates  gained  the  parapet  and  set  the  wooden  build- 
ings afire  with  hand  grenades,  but  while  the  issue 
wavered,  Captain  Davis  fell,  a  pistol-ball  in  his 
stomach.  In  a  hand-to-hand  conflict  his  pirates 
were  driven  back  to  the  beach,  carrying  their  dying 
captain  with  them.  Defeated,  they  left  their  dead 
and  wounded  and  fled  in  the  boats,  while  in  the  last 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY     253 

gasp  Captain  Davis  discharged  both  his  pistols  at 
the  enemy.  "And  those  on  board  the  ship,  who 
expected  to  hoist  in  treasure,  had  to  receive  naught 
but  their  wounded  comrades  and  dead  com- 
mander." 

Captain  Snelgrave,  left  free  to  work  out  his  own 
plans,  loaded  his  cargo  into  one  of  the  vessels  which 
the  pirates  had  abandoned  in  the  river.  He  was 
shrewd  enough  to  know  that  he  could  not  be  accused 
of  receiving  a  stolen  ship,  for  maritime  usage  now 
protected  him.  He  was  taking  possession  of  a  dere- 
lict and  sailing  her  home,  where  he  could  make  terms 
of  sale  or  salvage  with  her  rightful  owners.  And 
so  he  mustered  as  many  of  his  crew  as  had  not  been 
lured  away  by  the  pirates,  and  said  good-by  to  his 
loyal  friend  Captain  Glynn,  and  took  on  board  six 
other  masters  of  ships  who  were  stranded  at  Sierra 
Leone  because  they  had  been  unlucky  enough  to  fall 
in  with  Cocklyn  and  La  Boise  and  Captain  Davis. 
On  August  1,  in  the  year  1719,  Captain  Snelgrave 
dropped  anchor  in  the  port  of  Bristol  and  trudged 
ashore  to  find  a  pleasant  haven  in  a  tavern  and  tell 
his  troubles  to  other  sun-browned  skippers  who 
knew  the  Guinea  coast  and  the  hazards  of  the  slave- 
trade. 

A  different  kind  of  fortune  was  that  of  Captain 
George  Roberts,  who  sailed  from  Virginia  for  the 


254     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Guinea  coast  in  the  year  of  1721.  Pirates  overtook 
his  sloop  off  the  Cape  Verd  Islands,  and  at  first 
treated  him  rather  good-humoredly,  as  he  was  a  man 
of  spirit  and  could  hold  his  own  when  the  bottle 
was  passed.  The  pirate  captain  took  a  fancy  to  him 
and  had  a  mind  to  let  him  resume  his  voyage,  but  un- 
luckily the  health  of  the  "Old  Pretender,"  James 
III,  was  proposed  at  table,  and  Captain  Roberts, 
who  was  no  Jacobite,  roundly  refused  to  drink  such 
a  damnable  toast.  He  did  not  purpose  to  bend  his 
sentiments  to  suit  the  fancy  of  any  pirates  that  ever 
sailed  unhung.  One  of  them  was  for  shooting  him 
through  the  head,  but  to  the  others  it  seemed  more 
entertaining  to  put  him  aboard  his  own  vessel  with- 
out provisions,  water,  or  sails,  and  to  kidnap  his 
crew  as  well,  and  let  him  drift  out  to  sea.  Captain 
Roberts  listened  to  the  discussion  and  had  nothing 
more  to  say.  He  would  drink  the  health  of  a  king 
of  his  own  choosing  if  it  cost  him  his  skin,  and  that 
was  the  end  of  it. 

The  old  chronicler  who  preserved  the  tale  of  this 
stubborn  sea-dog  took  occasion  to  moralize  in  this 
fashion : 

That  men  of  the  most  abandoned  characters  should  so 
far  forget  what  humanity  is  due  their  fellow  men,  as  to 
expose  any  one  to  almost  certain  destruction,  merely  on 
account  of  a  foolish  toast,  may  excite  the  astonishment  of 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY    255 

the  reflecting;  nor  perhaps  shall  we  wonder  much  less  at 
the  romantic  resolution  of  Captain  Roberts  who  braved 
death  rather  than  submit  to  an  insignificant  form. 

In  the  dead  of  night  the  sloop  was  cast  off,  and 
the  pirates  even  pilfered  all  the  candles  to  make 
matters  as  uncomfortable  as  possible.  Two  boys  of 
the  sloop's  crew  had  been  left  on  board,  one  of  them 
an  infant  of  eight  years,  and  it  may  have  accorded 
with  the  piratical  style  of  humor  to  call  this  a  com- 
plement. The  eight-year-old  urchin  was  perhaps  a 
cabin-boy;  no  other  information  is  vouchsafed  con- 
cerning him.  At  any  rate,  he  must  have  turned  to 
like  a  little  man,  for  he  took  the  wheel  while  the  cap- 
tain and  the  elder  boy  pumped  to  clear  the  leaky 
vessel  of  water.  Fairly  confident  that  she  would 
stay  afloat,  they  took  stock  at  daylight,  and  found 
that  the  pirates  had  overlooked  a  few  crumbs  of 
bread,  ten  gallons  of  rum,  a  little  rice,  and  some 
flour,  with  a  two-gallon  jug  of  water.  They  were 
unable  to  kindle  a  fire  because  the  jocular  pirates 
had  carried  off  the  flint  and  steel,  and  so  they  lived 
on  raw  flour  and  rice  and  drank  rum  after  the  water 
gave  out. 

Three  days'  hard  labor  sufficed  to  patch  up  a  sail 
that  pulled  the  sloop  along  when  the  wind  blew  hard 
enough.  Rain  fell  and  gave  them  a  little  more 
water  before  they  died  of  thirst.  A  shark  was 


256     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

caught  when  the  food  had  all  been  eaten  and  they 
lived  for  three  weeks  before  sighting  land  again. 
This  was  the  Isle  of  St.  Anthony,  in  the  Cape  Verd 
group,  and  the  elder  boy  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go 
ashore  in  the  boat  and  look  for  water. 

He  pulled  away  after  sunset  and,  with  the  anchor 
down,  Captain  Roberts  dragged  himself  into  the 
cabin  and  was  instantly  asleep.  Rousing  out  at 
midnight,  there  was  no  sign  of  the  boat  and,  to  his 
dismay,  he  discovered  that  the  sloop  had  drifted 
almost  out  of  sight  of  land  with  a  strong  night  wind. 
His  crew  now  consisted  of  the  eight-year-old  mite 
of  a  sailor  lad,  but  they  swung  on  the  pump  together 
and  tugged  at  the  windlass  until  the  anchor  was 
hove  short.  They  tended  the  rag  of  sail,  and  a 
kindly  breeze  slowly  wafted  them  back  toward  the 
island  until  they  were  able  to  drop  the  mud-hook  in 
a  sandy  bay  with  a  good  holding-ground.  Captain 
Roberts  was  a  stalwart  man,  and  hats  off  to  his 
eight -year-old  crew  I 

The  other  boy  who  had  rowed  ashore  was  anxi- 
ously looking  for  the  vessel,  and  he  appeared  aboard 
with  a  gang  of  negroes  whom  he  had  hired  to  work 
her  into  the  nearest  port.  They  brought  food  and 
water  with  them,  and  affairs  seemed  to  have  taken 
an  auspicious  turn,  but  during  the  first  night  out  the 
sail  split  from  top  to  bottom.  There  was  no  other 


THE  ROARING  DAYS  OF  PIRACY     257 

canvas  to  set,  and  the  negroes  promptly  tumbled 
into  the  boat  and  made  for  the  island.  The  voyage 
appealed  to  their  simple  intellects  as  very  much  of  a 
failure.  Captain  Roberts  sighed,  and  resumed  the 
interminable  task  of  finding  a  haven  for  his  helpless 
sloop.  His  two  boys  did  what  they  could,  but  they 
were  completely  worn  out  and  unable  to  help  rig 
up  another  sail  of  bits  of  awning,  tarpaulins,  and  so 
on,  and  bend  it  to  the  spars. 

Captain  Roberts  was  inclined  to  believe  that  he 
had  played  his  last  card,  but  one  is  quite  unable  to 
fancy  him  as  regretting  his  quixotic  refusal  to  join  a 
party  of  Jacobite  pirates  in  toasting  the  Pretender. 
When  another  day  came,  he  was  grimly  hanging  to 
the  tiller  and  trying  to  keep  the  sloop's  head  in  the 
direction  of  land  when  he  heard  a  commotion  in  the 
hold.  One  of  the  lads  plucked  up  courage  to  peer 
over  the  hatch-coaming,  and  in  the  gloom  he  de- 
scried three  negroes  in  a  very  bad  temper  who  were 
holding  their  heads  in  their  hands.  Ordered  on 
deck,  they  anxiously  rolled  their  eyes,  and  explained 
that  they  had  found  the  puncheon  of  rum  soon  after 
coming  on  board  and  had  guzzzled  it  so  earnestly 
that  they  sneaked  below  to  sleep  it  off.  Their  com- 
rades had  deserted  the  ship  in  the  darkness,  and 
Captain  Roberts,  assuming  that  all  hands  were  quit- 
ting him,  had  not  counted  them. 


258     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Here  was  a  crew  provided  by  a  sort  of  unholy 
miracle,  and  they  were  ready  to  help  take  the  ship 
to  port  to  save  their  own  perfectly  worthless  lives. 
They  managed  to  carry  her  close  to  a  harbor  called 
St.  John's,  and  one  of  the  black  rascals  declared  that 
he  was  an  able  pilot ;  but  when  the  vessel  drew  close 
to  the  rocks  he  lost  his  courage  and  dived  overboard, 
whereupon  his  comrades  followed  him,  and  all  swam 
ashore  like  fishes.  The  afflicted  Captain  Roberts 
let  go  his  anchor  and  waited  through  the  night,  after 
which  other  natives  came  off  to  the  sloop  and 
brought  fresh  provisions  and  water.  It  seemed  as  if 
their  troubles  might  be  nearing  an  end,  but  a  storm 
blew  next  day,  and  the  sloop  went  upon  the  rocks. 
Captain  Roberts  and  the  two  lads  were  rescued  by 
the  kindly  natives,  who  swam  out  through  the  ra- 
ging surf,  but  the  sloop  was  soon  dashed  to  pieces. 
She  deserved  to  win  a  happier  fortune. 

The  voyage  to  the  Guinea  coast  was  ruined,  and 
Captain  Roberts  had  no  money  to  back  another  ven- 
ture; but  he  set  about  building  a  boat  from  the 
wreck  of  his  sloop,  and  made  such  a  success  of  it 
that  with  the  two  lads  and  three  negro  sailors  he 
was  soon  doing  a  brisk  trade  from  island  to  island. 
Having  accumulated  some  cash,  he  decided  to  return 
to  London,  where  he  arrived  after  an  absence  of  four 
years. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   LOSS   OF   THE    WAGER    MAN-OF-WAR 

TO  the  modern  generation,  one  of  the  great 
adventures  of  seafaring  history  is  familiar 
only  in  an  eloquent  reference  of  Robert  Louis  Ste- 
venson, and  few  readers,  I  venture  to  say,  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  delve  for  the  facts  which  in- 
spired the  following  tribute  in  the  essay  called  "The 
English  Admirals": 

It  was  by  a  hazard  that  we  learned  the  conduct  of  the 
four  marines  of  the  Wager.  There  was  no  room  for  these 
brave  fellows  in  the  boat,  and  they  were  left  behind  upon 
the  island  to  a  certain  death.  They  were  soldiers,  they 
said,  and  knew  well  enough  it  was  their  business  to  die; 
and  as  their  comrades  pulled  away,  they  stood  upon  the 
beach,  gave  three  cheers,  and  cried,  "  God  bless  the  king!" 
Now  one  or  two  of  those  who  were  in  the  boat  escaped, 
against  all  likelihood,  to  tell  the  story.  That  was  a  great 
thing  for  us ;  but  surely  it  cannot,  by  any  possible  twisting 
of  human  speech,  be  construed  into  anything  great  for  the 
marines. 

You  may  suppose,  if  you  like,  that  they  died  hoping 
their  behavior  would  not  be  forgotten ;  or  you  may  suppose 
they  thought  nothing  of  the  subject,  which  is  much  more 

likely.     What  can  be  the  signification  of  the  word  "fame" 

259 


260     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

to  a  private  of  marines,  who  cannot  read  and  knows  noth- 
ing of  past  history  beyond  the  reminiscences  of  his  grand- 
mother? But  whatever  supposition  you  make,  the  fact  is 
unchanged ;  and  I  suppose  their  bones  were  already  white, 
before  the  winds  and  the  waves  and  the  humor  of  Indian 
chiefs  and  governers  had  decided  whether  they  were  to  be 
unknown  and  useless  martyrs  or  honored  heroes.  Indeed, 
I  believe  this  is  the  lesson:  if  it  is  for  fame  that  men  do 
brave  actions,  they  are  only  silly  fellows  after  all.  .  .  . 
If  the  marines  of  the  Wager  gave  three  cheers  and  cried 
"God  bless  the  king,"  it  was  because  they  liked  to  do  things 
nobly  for  their  own  satisfaction.  They  were  giving  their 
lives,  there  was  no  help  for  that,  and  they  made  it  a  point 
of  self-respect  to  give  them  handsomely. 

In  1739  the  bitter  rivalry  between  England  and 
Spain  for  the  trade  and  treasure  of  the  New  World 
flamed  afresh  in  war.  A  squadron  of  six  British 
men-of-war  under  Commodore  George  Anson  was 
sent  out  to  double  Cape  Horn  and  vex  the  dons  in 
their  South  American  ports  and  on  the  routes  of 
the  Pacific  where  the  lumbering  galleons  steered  for 
Panama  or  Manila.  With  these  fighting-vessels 
went  a  supply-ship  called  the  Wager,  an  old  East 
Indiaman  which  had  been  armed  and  filled  with 
stores  of  every  description.  Clumsy,  rotten,  and 
overladen,  the  Wager  was  no  better  off  for  a  crew, 
which  consisted  of  sailors  long  exiled  on  other  voy- 
ages and  pining  for  home.  The  military  guard 
was  made  up  of  worn-out  old  pensioners  from 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      261 

Chelsea  Hospital,  who  were  very  low  in  their  minds 
at  the  prospect  of  so  long  and  hazardous  a  cruise. 
They  could  not  be  called  a  dashing  lot  aboard  the 
Wager,  and  as  for  the  captain  of  her  his  name  was 
Cheap,  and  he  was  not  much  better  than  that.  You 
shall  have  the  pleasure  of  damning  him  as  heartily 
for  yourselves  as  did  his  forlorn  ship's  company. 

The  crazy  old  hooker  of  a  store-ship  began  to  go 
to  pieces  as  soon  as  she  encountered  the  wild  gales 
and  swollen  seas  off  the  Horn.  Decks  were  swept, 
boats  smashed,  and  the  mizzenmast  carried  clean  out 
of  her.  Disabled  and  leaking,  the  Wager  was 
somehow  worked  into  the  Pacific;  but  the  captain 
had  no  charts  of  the  coast,  and  he  blundered  along  in 
the  hope  of  finding  the  rest  of  the  squadron  at  the 
rendezvous,  which  was  the  island  of  Juan  Fernan- 
dez. He  was  warned  by  the  first  lieutenant,  the 
gunner,  and  other  officers  that  the  floating  weed, 
the  flocks  of  land  birds,  and  the  longitude,  as  they 
had  figured  it  out,  indicated  a  lee  shore  not  many 
miles  distant.  The  gunner  was  a  man  of  sorts  and 
he  was  bold  enough  to  protest : 

"Sir,  the  ship  is  a  perfect  wreck;  our  mizzenmast 
gone,  and  all  our  people  ill  or  exhausted ;  there  are 
only  twelve  fit  for  duty, — therefore  it  may  be  dan- 
gerous to  fall  in  with  the  land." 

Captain  Cheap  stubbornly  held  on  until  he  was 


262     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

disabled  by  a  fall  on  deck  which  dislocated  his  shoul- 
der, and  confined  him  to  his  cabin.  The  officers 
were  better  off  without  him.  On  the  morning  of 
May  13,  1740,  the  carpenter's  keen  eyesight  dis- 
cerned the  lift  of  land  through  a  rift  in  the  cloudy 
weather,  but  the  others  disagreed  with  him  until  they 
saw  a  gloomy  peak  of  the  Cordilleras.  The 
ship  was  driving  bodily  toward  the  land,  and 
the  utmost  exertions  were  made  to  crowd  her  off- 
shore; but  the  sails  split  in  the  heavy  gale, 
and  so  few  men  were  fit  for  duty  that  there  were  no 
more  than  three  or  four  active  seamen  to  a  watch. 

In  darkness  next  morning  the  Wager  struck  a 
sunken  rock,  and  her  ancient  timbers  collapsed. 
She  split  open  like  a  pumpkin,  rolled  on  her  beam- 
ends,  and  lodged  against  other  projections  of  the 
reef,  with  the  seas  boiling  clean  over  her.  Then  a 
mountainous  billow  or  two  lifted  her  clear,  and  she 
went  reeling  inshore,  sinking  as  she  ran.  Several  of 
the  sick  men  were  drowned  in  their  hammocks,  and 
others  scrambled  on  deck  to  display  miraculous  re- 
coveries. Because  the  commander  of  the  ship  was 
worthless  and  disabled  besides,  the  discipline  of  the 
ship  in  this  crisis  was  abominable.  The  brave  men 
rallied  together  as  by  instinct,  and  tried  to  hammer 
courage  and  obedience  into  the  frenzied  mob.  The 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      263 

mate,  Mr.  Jones,  was  a  man  with  his  two  feet  under 
him,  and  he  shouted  to  the  cowards : 

"Here,  lads,  let  us  not  be  discouraged.  Did  you 
never  see  a  ship  amongst  breakers  before?  Come, 
lend  a  hand;  here  is  a  sheet  and  there  is  a  brace;  lay 
hold.  I  doubt  not  that  we  can  bring  her  near 
enough  to  land  to  save  our  lives." 

Mr.  Jones  thought  they  were  all  dead  men  with- 
out a  ghost  of  a  show  of  salvation,  as  he  later  con- 
fessed, but  his  exhortations  put  heart  into  them,  and 
he  was  not  one  to  die  without  a  gallant  struggle. 
Soon  the  wreck  of  the  Wager  piled  up  in  the  break- 
ers between  two  huge  rocks,  where  she  stayed  fast. 
Dry  land  was  no  more  than  a  musket-shot  away, 
and  as  soon  as  daylight  came  the  three  boats  that 
were  left — the  barge,  the  cutter,  and  the  yawl — 
were  launched  and  instantly  filled  with  men,  who 
tumbled  in  helter-skelter.  The  rest  of  the  sailors 
proceeded  to  break  open  casks  of  wine  and  brandy 
and  to  get  so  drunk  that  several  were  drowned  in  the 
ship.  The  suffering  Captain  Cheap  permitted  him- 
self to  be  lifted  out  of  bed  and  borne  into  a  boat  with 
most  of  the  commissioned  officers,  while  the  master, 
gunner,  and  carpenter,  who  were  not  gentlemen  at 
all,  but  very  ordinary  persons,  in  fact,  remained  in 
the  wreck  to  save  what  they  could  of  her  and  to 


264     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

round  up  the  riotous  bluejackets  and  bear  a  hand 
with  the  surviving  invalids. 

A  hundred  and  forty  people  of  the  Wager  found 
themselves  alive,  and  nothing  more,  on  the  savage 
and  desolate  coast  of  Patagonia.  The  boatswain, 
who  was  a  hard  case,  had  stuck  by  the  ship,  but  there 
was  nothing  noble  in  his  motive.  He  led  a  crowd 
of  kindred  spirits,  who  vowed  they  would  stay  there 
as  long  as  the  liquor  held  out.  When  ordered  to 
abandon  the  hulk,  they  threatened  mutiny  and 
broached  another  cask.  During  the  following 
night,  however,  another  gale  drove  the  sea  over  the 
wreck,  and  the  rogues  had  quite  enough  of  it. 

They  signaled  for  the  boats  to  take  them  off,  but 
this  was  impossible  because  of  the  raging  surf; 
wherefore  the  gay  mutineers  lost  their  tempers  and 
let  a  cannon-ball  whizz  from  a  quarter-deck  gun  at 
the  refugees  on  shore.  While  waiting  for  rescue, 
they  rifled  the  cabins  for  tempting  plunder,  and 
swaggered  in  the  officers'  laced  coats  and  cocked 
hats.  The  boatswain,  who  egged  them  on,  saw  to  it 
that  they  were  well  armed,  for  he  proclaimed  defi- 
ance of  all  authority,  and  there  was  to  be  more  of  the 
iron-handed  code  of  sea  law.  These  were  pressed 
men,  poor  devils,  who  broke  all  restraint  because 
they  had  not  been  wisely  and  humanely  handled. 

When  at  length  they  were  taken  ashore,  Captain 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      265 

Cheap  showed  one  of  his  fitful  flashes  of  resolution 
by  sallying  from  his  tent  and  knocking  the  insolent 
boatswain  down  with  a  loaded  cane  and  putting  a 
cocked  pistol  to  his  ear.  This  took  the  wind  out 
of  the  sails  of  the  other  mutineers,  and  they  tamely 
submitted  to  being  stripped  of  their  arms,  which 
made  them  harmless  for  the  moment.  So  bleak  was 
the  coast  that  the  only  food  obtainable  was  shell- 
fish, while  from  the  wreck  almost  no  stores  were 
saved.  The  most  urgent  business  was  to  knock  huts 
together  of  the  drift-wood  and  canvas,  and  effect 
some  sort  of  organization.  A  fortnight  passed  be- 
fore Captain  Cheap  had  the  provisions  properly 
guarded  and  the  rations  dealt  out  in  a  systematic 
manner,  while  in  the  meantime  the  sailors  were  steal- 
ing the  stuff  right  and  left,  and  the  battle  was  to  the 
strongest. 

It  was  ascertained  that  they  were  marooned  on 
what  appeared  to  be  an  island  near  the  coast  and 
about  three  hundred  miles  to  the  northward  of  the 
Strait  of  Magellan.  Three  canoes  of  Patagonian 
Indians  happened  to  discover  the  camp,  and  they 
were  friendly  enough  to  barter  for  two  dogs  and 
three  sheep,  which  were  no  more  than  a  meal  for  the 
hungry  crew  of  the  Wager.  The  Indians  vanished, 
and  the  agony  of  famine  took  hold  of  these  miser- 
able people.  Instead  of  pluckily  working  together 


266     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

to  master  the  situation  like  true  British  seamen,  they 
split  into  hostile  factions,  and  insubordination  was 
rampant.  There  were  rough  and  desperate  men 
among  them,  it  is  true,  but  a  leader  of  courage  and 
resource  whom  they  respected  would  have  stamped 
out  much  of  this  disorder. 

They  wandered  off  in  sullen  groups,  ten  of  them 
straying  away  into  the  woods  until  starvation  drove 
them  back,  another  party  building  a  punt  and  sail- 
ing away  in  it,  never  to  be  heard  of  again.  These 
latter  fellows  were  not  regretted,  according  to  the 
narrative  of  one  of  the  survivors,  who  declares  that 

there  was  great  reason  to  believe  that  James  Mitchell,  one 
of  them,  had  perpetrated  no  less  than  two  murders,  the 
first  on  a  sailor  found  strangled  on  board  and  the  second 
on  the  body  of  a  man  who  was  discovered  among  some 
bushes,  stabbed  in  a  shocking  manner.  On  the  day  of 
their  desertion,  they  plotted  blowing  up  the  captain  in  his 
hut,  along  with  the  surgeon  and  Lieutenant  Hamilton  of 
the  marines;  they  were  with  difficulty  dissuaded  from  it 
by  one  less  wicked  than  the  rest;  and  half  a  barrel  of 
powder,  together  with  the  train,  were  found  actually  laid. 

Among  the  officers  was  a  boyish  midshipman 
named  Cozens  who  was  of  a  flighty,  impulsive  dispo- 
sition and  who  had  no  head  for  strong  liquors.  Too 
much  grog  made  him  boisterous,  and  by  way  of  a 
lesson  he  was  shut  up  in  a  hut  under  guard.  He 
cherished  a  hearty  dislike  for  Captain  Cheap  and 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      267 

was  extremely  impertinent  to  that  chicken-hearted 
bully  of  a  commander,  who  thereupon  lashed  him 
with  his  cane.  The  doughty  sentry  of  marines  in- 
terfered, swearing  that  not  even  the  captain  of  the 
ship  should  strike  a  prisoner  placed  in  his  charge. 
The  midshipman  took  the  disgrace  to  heart,  and 
what  with  anger,  drink,  and  privation  he  seems  to 
have  become  a  bit  unbalanced.  There  had  been  no 
more  popular  young  officer  in  the  Wager,  easy, 
genial,  affectionate;  but  now  he  quarreled  with  the 
surgeon  and  had  a  more  serious  row  with  the  purser, 
taking  a  shot  at  him  and  vowing  that  he  was  ready 
to  mutiny  to  get  rid  of  the  blockheads  and  villains 
who  had  brought  ruin  to  the  expedition. 

Captain  Cheap  heard  a  report  of  the  uprising  of 
Midshipman  Cozens  and  delayed  not  to  investigate, 
but  rushed  out  and  shot  the  rash  youngster  through 
the  head.  There  was  nothing  novel  in  talking 
mutiny.  The  whole  camp  was  infected  with  law- 
lessness. If  it  was  a  crime  to  ignore  authority,  all 
hands  were  guilty.  Flouted  and  held  in  contempt, 
Captain  Cheap  killed  the  midshipman  as  an 
example  to  the  others,  and,  of  course,  they  hated  and 
despised  him  more  than  before.  Poor  young 
Cozens  lived  long  enough  to  take  the  hand  of  his 
chum,  Midshipman  Byron,  and  to  smile  a  farewell 
to  the  sailors  who  had  been  fond  of  him.  They 


268     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

begged  to  be  allowed  to  carry  him  to  one  of  their 
own  tents  while  he  was  still  breathing,  but  the  cap- 
tain refused,  and  flourished  his  pistol  at  them ;  so  he 
died  where  he  fell. 

Captain  Cheap,  after  the  deed  was  done,  addressed  the 
people,  assembled  together  by  his  command,  and  told  them 
he  was  resolved  to  retain  his  authority  over  them  as  usual, 
and  that  it  remained  as  much  in  force  as  ever.  He  then 
ordered  them  all  to  return  to  their  respective  tents,  with 
which  they  complied.  This  event,  however,  contributed 
to  lessen  him  in  the  regard  of  the  people. 

Three  boats  had  been  saved  from  the  wreck  of  the 
Wager,  and  the  largest  of  them  was  the  long-boat,  a 
word  that  awakens  memories  of  many  an  old-time 
romance  of  the  sea  and  seems  particularly  to  belong 
to  "Robinson  Crusoe."  It  was  what  might  be  called 
a  ship's  launch,  and  was  often  so  heavy  and  ca- 
pacious that  vessels  towed  it  astern  on  long  voyages. 
Two  months  after  the  disaster,  the  Wager's  people 
despairing  of  rescue,  began  to  patch  up  the  boats 
with  the  idea  of  making  their  way  to  the  Spanish 
settlements  of  the  mainland.  The  long-boat  was 
hauled  up  on  the  beach,  and  the  carpenter  under- 
took the  difficult  task  of  sawing  it  in  two  and 
building  in  a  section  in  order  to  make  it  twelve 
feet  longer. 

While  this  enterprise  was  under  way,  a  party  of 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      269 

fifty  Indians,  men,  women,  and  children,  found  the 
camp  and  built  wigwams,  evidently  intending  to 
settle  for  a  while  and  do  some  trading.  Their 
canoes  were  filled  with  seal,  shell-fish,  and  live  sheep, 
and  the  visitation  was  immensely  valuable  to  the 
castaways ;  but  some  of  the  ruffianly  sailors  insulted 
the  women,  and  the  indignant  Patagonians  soon 
packed  up  and  departed,  bag  and  baggage.  As  a 
result,  the  ravages  of  famine  became  so  severe  that 
the  muster-roll  was  reduced  to  a  hundred  men. 
This  meant  that  a  third  of  the  survivors  of  the  wreck 
were  already  dead. 

Throughout  the  whole  story  of  suffering,  mutiny, 
and  demoralization  the  deeds  of  those  who  bravely 
and  unflinchingly  endured  seemed  to  gleam  like 
stars  against  a  somber  background.  You  will  find 
frequent  mention  of  Midshipman  Byron,  a  lad  in 
his  teens,  who  was  the  real  hero  of  the  Wager,  al- 
though he  never  realized  it.  He  achieved  nothing 
spectacular  in  a  way,  but  he  always  tried  to  do  his 
duty  and  something  more.  The  British  midship- 
man of  that  era  was  often  a  mere  rosy-cheeked 
infant  who  pranced  into  the  thick  of  a  boarding- 
party  with  his  cutlass  and  dirk  or  bullied  a  boat's 
crew  of  old  salts  in  some  desperate  adventure  on  an 
enemy's  coast.  The  precocious  breed  survives  in 
the  Royal  Navy  of  to-day,  and  in  the  great  battle- 


270     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ships  of  the  Grand  Fleet,  at  Rosyth  or  Scapa  Flow, 
you  might  have  seen  these  bantam  midshipmen 
standing  a  deck  watch  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  four- 
starred  admiral. 

Midshipman  Byron  of  the  Wager  built  himself 
a  tiny  hut  in  which  he  lived  alone  after  the  captain 
killed  his  messmate  Cozens,  and  his  companion  was  a 
strayed  Indian  cur,  which  adored  him.  The  dog 
faithfully  guarded  the  hut  when  Byron  was  absent 
from  it,  and  they  shared  together  such  food  as  could 
be  found,  mostly  mussels  and  limpets.  At  length  a 
deputation  of  seamen  called  to  announce  that  they 
must  eat  the  dog  or  starve.  Byron  made  a  gallant 
fight  to  save  his  four-legged  friend,  but  was  subdued 
by  force,  and  for  once  during  the  long  and  terrible 
experience  he  wept  and  was  in  a  hopeless  state  of 
mind. 

Among  the  minor  characters  who  commend  them- 
selves to  our  approval  was  a  reckless  devil  of  a 
boatswain's  mate,  who  noticed  that  the  seabirds 
roosted  and  nested  on  reefs  and  islets  out  to  sea- 
ward. In  the  words  of  one  of  his  shipmates : 

Having  got  a  water  puncheon,  he  scuttled  it,  then  lash- 
ing two  logs,  one  on  each  side  of  it,  he  went  to  sea  in  this 
extraordinary  and  original  piece  of  embarkation.  Thus 
he  would  frequently  provide  himself  with  wild-fowl  when 
all  the  rest  were  starving;  and  the  weather  was  bad  in- 
deed when  it  deterred  him  from  adventuring.  Sometimes 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      271 

he  would  be  absent  a  whole  day.  At  last  he  was  unfortu- 
nately overset  by  a  heavy  sea  when  at  a  great  distance 
from  shore;  but  being  near  a  rock,  though  no  swimmer, 
he  contrived  to  scramble  to  it.  There  he  remained  two 
days  with  little  prospect  of  relief,  as  he  was  too  far  off 
the  land  to  be  visible.  Luckily,  however,  one  of  the  boats 
happened  to  go  that  way  in  quest  of  wild-fowl,  discov- 
ered his  signals,  and  rescued  him  from  his  forlorn  condi- 
tion. Yet  he  was  so  little  discouraged  by  this  accident 
that,  soon  after,  he  procured  an  ox's  hide  from  the  In- 
dians and,  by  the  assistance  of  hoops,  fashioned  some- 
thing like  a  canoe  in  which  he  made  several  successful 
voyages. 

In  August  the  three  boats  had  been  made  sea- 
worthy enough  to  undertake  an  escape  from  the  mis- 
eries of  this  hopeless  island.  Then,  as  usual,  there 
arose  confusion  of  purpose  and  violent  disagree- 
ment. This  ship's  company  could  be  trusted  to 
start  a  row  at  the  drop  of  the  hat.  As  long  as  there 
was  breath  in  them,  they  were  sure  to  turn  against 
one  another.  The  majority  proposed  that  they  try 
for  a  passage  homeward  by  way  of  the  Strait  of 
Magellan.  Captain  Cheap  and  his  partizans  were 
for  steering  northward,  capturing  a  Spanish  vessel 
of  some  sort,  and  endeavoring  to  find  the  British 
squadron  from  which  the  Wager  had  become  sep- 
arated. He  blustered  about  his  authority,  insisted 
that  his  word  was  law,  and  so  on,  until  the  high- 
handed majority  grew  tired  of  his  noise  and  decided 


272     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

to  take  him  along  as  a  prisoner  and  hand  him  over 
to  justice  for  killing  Midshipman  Cozens. 

They  hauled  their  commander  out  of  bed  and 
lugged  him  by  the  head  and  the  heels  to  the  purser's 
tent,  where  he  was  guarded  by  a  sentry  of  marines 
and  very  coarsely  derided  by  these  unmannerly 
rebels.  The  gunner  informed  Captain  Cheap  that 
he  was  to  be  carried  to  England  as  a  prisoner;  at 
which  he  retorted,  with  proper  spirit,  that  he  would 
sooner  be  shot  than  undergo  such  humiliation  and, 
given  his  choice,  he  preferred  to  be  left  behind  on  the 
island.  This  was  agreeable  to  the  mob,  who  gave 
three  cheers  and  thought  no  more  about  him.  His 
two  loyal  companions,  the  surgeon  and  Lieutenant 
Hamilton,  elected  of  their  own  free  will  to  remain 
with  the  fallen  commander,  and  this  devotion  was 
one  of  the  admirable  episodes  of  the  tragedy.  The 
mutineers  recognized  it  as  such,  and  they  distributed 
the  provisions  fairly  with  these  exiles  and  gave  them 
arms  and  ammunition. 

There  were  now  eighty-one  men  to  embark  in  the 
long-boat,  the  cutter,  and  the  barge  and  set  sail  for 
the  Strait  of  Magellan.  They  started  off  with  huz- 
zas and  Ho  for  Merry  England,  with  about  one 
chance  in  a  thousand  of  getting  there,  and  coasted 
along  for  two  days  when  the  wind  blew  some  of 
their  rotten  canvas  away  and  they  halted  to  send  the 


W 


C     .5 

S  I 

H      PI 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      273 

barge  back  to  the  wreck  for  more  sail-cloth.  Mid- 
shipman Byron  found  the  company  uncongenial,  to 
put  it  mildly,  and  the  venture  seemed  so  confused 
and  hazardous  that  he  shifted  into  the  barge  to 
return  to  the  island  and  resume  existence  in  his  little 
hut.  The  crew  of  the  barge  were  of  the  same  opin- 
ion and  so  they  announced  to  Captain  Cheap  that 
they  would  take  chances  with  him.  Eight  deserters 
came  straggling  out  of  the  woods  to  join  the  party 
and  there  were,  in  all,  twenty  men  to  contrive  a  voy- 
age of  their  own. 

The  most  unruly  lot  had  departed  in  the  long- 
boat and  the  cutter,  and  mutiny  no  longer  kept  the 
island  in  a  turmoil.  Order  was  restored  to  the 
extent  that  a  sailor  was  flogged  and  banished  for 
stealing  food,  and  the  party  sensibly  toiled  at  the 
wreck  until  they  salvaged  several  barrels  of  salt  beef 
from  the  hold,  and  so  recruited  health  and  strength. 
They  patched  together  the  remnants  of  the  yawl, 
and  in  this  and  the  barge  they  put  to  sea  to  cruise  to 
the  northward  in  December,  or  more  than  half  a 
year  after  the  loss  of  the  Wager.  Misfortune  beset 
them  at  every  turn.  It  seemed  as  though  their  ship 
had  been  under  a  curse.  A  gale  almost  swamped 
the  two  boats  as  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the  island, 
and  to  keep  afloat  they  had  to  throw  overboard  all 
their  salt  beef  and  seal  meat.  Most  of  the  other 


274     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

stuff  was  washed  out,  and  they  made  a  landing  in 
worse  plight  than  before. 

With  fitful  weather  they  skirted  a  swampy  coast, 
with  nothing  to  eat  but  seaweed,  until  they  were 
chewing  the  shoes  they  had  sewed  together  from  raw 
sealskin.  It  was  Christmas  day  or  thereabouts 
when  the  yawl  was  smashed  beyond  mending  by 
dragging  its  anchor  and  driving  into  the  surf.  The 
barge  was  not  large  enough  to  carry  all  hands,  and 
it  was  agreed  that  four  of  them  should  be  abandoned 
ashore.  There  was  no  obstreperous  argument  over 
it.  They  had  become  careless  of  such  matters  as 
life  and  death.  Just  how  these  four  men  were 
chosen  or  whether  they  volunteered  is  left  to  conjec- 
ture. The  story  written  by  Midshipman  Byron, 
which  is  the  most  detailed  account  of  the  episode, 
describes  it  as  follows : 

They  were  all  marines,  who  seemed  to  have  no  great 
objection  to  the  determination  made  with  regard  to  them, 
they  were  so  exceedingly  disheartened  and  exhausted  with 
the  distress  and  dangers  they  had  already  undergone. 
Indeed,  I  believe  it  would  have  been  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence to  most  of  the  others  whether  they  should  embark  or 
take  their  chance.  The  captain  distributed  among  these 
poor  fellows  arms,  ammunition,  and  some  other  neces- 
saries. 

When  we  parted  they  stood  upon  the  beach,  giving  us 
three  cheers  and  calling  out,  "God  bless  the  King!"  We 
saw  them  a  little  after  setting  out  upon  their  forlorn 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      275 

hope  and  helping  one  another  over  hideous  tracts  of 
rocks;  but  considering  the  difficulties  attending  this  only 
mode  of  travelling  left  them,  for  the  woods  are  impene- 
trable, from  their  thickness,  and  the  deep  swamps  every- 
where met  within  them,  and  considering,  too,  that  the  coast 
is  here  rendered  inhospitable  by  the  heavy  seas  that  are 
constantly  tumbling  upon  it,  it  is  probable  that  they  all 
experienced  a  miserable  fate. 

The  picture  of  the  four  marines  as  they  waved 
their  caps  and  shouted  that  immortal  huzza  is  apt 
to  suggest  the  wreck  of  the  Birkenhead  troop -ship 
in  1852,  when  she  struck  a  rock  off  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope  and  four  hundred  British  soldiers  and 
marines  perished.  With  the  ship  foundering  be- 
neath their  feet,  they  fell  in  and  stood  as  though  on 
parade,  while  the  women  and  children  were  put  into 
the  two  available  boats.  As  the  decks  of  the  Birk- 
enhead lurched  under  the  sea,  the  ranks  of  the  four 
hundred  British  soldiers  and  marines  were  still 
splendid  and  unbroken.  The  deed  rang  through 
England  like  a  trumpet-call,  as  well  it  might. 

Brothers  in  arms  and  kinsmen  in  spirit  were  these 
four  hundred  men  of  England's  thin,  red  line  to  the 
four  humble  privates  of  the  Royal  Marines  whose 
names  are  forgotten.  And  Kipling's  tribute  may 
be  said  to  include  them  also : 

To  take  your  chance  in  the  thick  of  a  rush,  with  firing 
all  about, 


276     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Is  nothing  so  bad  when  you  've  cover  to  'and,  an'  leave 
an'  likin'  to  shout ; 

But  to  stand  an'  be  still  to  the  Birken'ead  drill  is  a  damn 
tough  billet  to  chew, 

An'  they  done  it,  the  Jollies — 'Er  Majesty's  Jollies — sol- 
dier an'  sailor  too. 


The  wretched  voyage  of  the  Wager's  barge  was 
so  delayed  by  head  winds  and  battering  seas  and  the 
necessity  of  landing  often  in  search  of  food  that  all 
hope  of  reaching  a  Spanish  port  was  relinquished, 
and  finally  they  put  about  and  trailed  wearily  back 
to  the  island  and  the  wreck  of  the  Wager  after  two 
months  of  futile  endeavor.  The  superstition  of  the 
sea  perturbed  these  childish  sailormen,  who  laid 
their  distresses  to  the  fact  that  one  of  the  crew  who 
was  murdered  on  the  island  had  never  been  given 
burial.  Therefore  the  first  errand  when  they  tot- 
tered ashore  at  their  old  camp  was  to  dig  a  grave 
and  say  a  prayer. 

They  were  so  tormented  with  famine  that  they 
talked,  or  rather  whispered,  of  choosing  one  of  their 
number  by  lot,  that  dreadful  old  expedient,  and 
boiling  him  for  a  square  meal;  but  the  discovery  of 
some  rotten  beef  cast  up  from  the  wreck  averted  this 
procedure.  They  existed  for  a  fortnight,  and  then 
a  party  of  Indians  appeared,  among  them  a  chief. 
He  spoke  a  little  Spanish,  and  an  officer  of  the 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      277 

Wager  managed  to  convey  to  him  that  they  desired 
guidance  to  the  nearest  white  settlement.  The 
promise  of  the  barge  as  a  gift  persuaded  the  mer- 
cenary Patagonian  to  lead  them  out  of  the  wilder- 
ness. Thirteen  survivors  were  left  of  the  twenty 
who  had  attempted  to  fare  to  the  northward.  The 
four  marines  had  been  left  to  their  heroic  fate,  and 
three  others  had  later  died  of  hunger. 

The  Indian  chief  had  not  bound  himself  to  furnish 
food,  and  it  soon  appeared  as  though  the  castaways 
would  all  perish  to  a  man  before  they  came  to  the 
end  of  the  journey.  They  were  trying  to  pull  the 
barge  up  a  turbulent  river  with  a  rapid  current,  and 
there  occurred  an  incident  or  two  which  illumined 
the  characters  of  Midshipman  Byron  and  Captain 
Cheap  and  showed  what  very  different  men  they 
were.  I  quote  the  old  record : 

Mr.  Byron  had  hitherto  steered  the  boat;  but  one  of 
the  men  dropping  down,  and  dying  of  fatigue,  he  was 
obliged  to  take  his  oar.  While  thus  engaged,  John  Bos- 
man,  who  was  considered  the  stoutest  man  among  them, 
fell  from  his  seat  under  the  thwarts,  complaining  that  his 
strength  was  quite  exhausted  from  want  of  food  and  that 
he  should  soon  expire.  While  he  lay  in  this  manner,  he 
would,  every  now  and  then,  break  out  into  the  most  pa- 
thetic wishes  for  some  little  sustenance,  expressing  that 
two  or  three  mouthfuls  might  be  the  means  of  saving  his 
life. 

At  this  time,  the  captain  had  a  large  piece  of  boiled 


278     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

seal  by  him  and  was  the  only  one  in  possession  of  any- 
thing like  a  meal.  But  they  were  become  so  hardened  to 
the  sufferings  of  others  and  so  much  familiarized  to 
similar  scenes  of  misery  that  the  poor  man's  dying  en- 
treaties were  in  vain.  Mr.  Byron  sat  next  him  when  he 
dropped,  and  having  about  five  or  six  dried  shell-fish  in 
his  pocket,  put  one  from  time  to  time  in  his  mouth,  which 
only  served  to  prolong  his  misery.  From  this,  however, 
death  released  him  soon  after  his  benefactor's  little  supply 
was  exhausted.  For  him,  and  the  other  man,  a  grave  was 
made  in  the  sand. 

It  would  have  greatly  redounded  to  the  tenderness  and 
humanity  of  Captain  Cheap  if  he  had  remitted  somewhat 
of  that  attention  which  he  testified  to  self-preservation 
and  spared  in  those  exigencies  what  might  have  been 
wanted,  consistently  with  his  own  necessities.  He  had 
better  opportunities  of  recruiting  his  stock  than  the 
others,  for  his  rank  was  an  inducement  to  the  Indian 
guide  to  supply  him  when  not  a  bit  of  anything  could  be 
found  for  the  rest.  On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  Cap- 
tain Cheap  produced  a  large  piece  of  boiled  seal,  of  which 
he  permitted  no  one,  excepting  the  surgeon,  to  partake. 
His  fellow-sufferers  did  not  expect  it,  as  they  had  a  few 
small  mussels  and  herbs  to  eat,  but  the  men  could  not  sup- 
press the  greatest  indignation  at  his  neglect  of  the  de- 
ceased, saying  that  he  deserved  to  be  deserted  for  such 
savage  conduct. 

If  one  may  hazard  a  personal  conjecture,  it  seems 
plausible  to  assume  that  Captain  Cheap  was  the 
Jonah  of  the  Wager  expedition  and  that  the  spell 
might  have  been  lifted  if  he  had  been  thrown  over- 
board much  earlier  in  the  adventure.  Be  that  as  it 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      279 

may,  the  curse  was  still  potent,  for  as  the  next  mis- 
hap six  sailors  and  one  of  the  Indians  stole  the  barge 
and  made  off  to  sea  with  it.  This  left  the  others 
stranded  and  bereft  of  everything  that  belonged  to 
them.  Besides  this  affliction,  the  Patagonian  chief 
was  disgruntled  because  the  barge  was  to  have  been 
his  reward  for  befriending  them.  He  was  for  kill- 
ing them  at  once  as  the  easiest  way  to  settle  the 
account,  but  it  was  Midshipman  Byron,  of  course, 
who  cajoled  him  out  of  his  mood  and  pleased  him 
with  the  gift  of  a  fowling-piece.  The  six  seamen 
who  stole  the  barge  passed  into  oblivion  at  the  same 
time,  and  so  were  justly  punished  for  their  perfidy. 
They  joined  the  great  majority  of  the  Wager's 
company  who  never  saw  port  again. 

Over  the  rocks  and  through  the  swamps  panted 
and  staggered  the  few  survivors,  hauling  and  pad- 
dling canoes  like  galley-slaves  and  abused  immod- 
erately by  their  Indian  guides,  or  captors.  They 
were  cold  and  wet  and  famished,  and  at  last  the  sur- 
geon died,  and  the  others  were  little  more  than 
shadows.  Captain  Cheap  grew  more  selfish  and 
pompous,  and  adversity  had  no  power  to  chasten 
him.  One  more  picture  and  we  are  almost  done 
with  him. 

The  canoes  were  taken  to  pieces  and  each  man  and  In- 
dian woman  of  the  party,  except  Captain  Cheap,  had 


280     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

something  to  carry.  Mr.  Byron  had  a  piece  of  wet  heavy 
canvas  to  carry  for  the  captain,  in  which  was  wrapped  a 
piece  of  seal  which  had  that  morning  been  given  to  him  by 
some  of  the  Indians.  The  way  was  through  a  thick  wood 
and  quagmire,  often  taking  them  up  to  the  knees,  and 
stumps  of  trees  in  the  water  obstructing  their  progress. 
Their  feet  were  wounded,  besides,  with  the  ruggedness  of 
the  ground.  Mr.  Byron,  whose  load  was  equal  to  what 
a  strong  healthy  man  might  have  carried,  was  left  behind 
by  two  Indians  who  accompanied  him.  Alarmed  less  the 
whole  should  be  too  far  advanced  for  him  to  overtake 
them,  he  strove  to  get  up;  and  in  his  exertions  fell  off  a 
tree  crossing  the  road  in  a  deep  swamp,  where  he  nar- 
rowly escaped  drowning. 

Quite  exhausted  with  the  labor  of  extricating  himself, 
he  sat  down  under  a  tree  and  there  gave  way  to  melan- 
choly reflections.  Sensible  that  if  he  indulged  them  in 
inactivity,  his  companions  could  not  be  overtaken,  he 
marked  a  great  tree  and,  depositing  his  burden,  hastened 
after  them.  In  some  hours  he  came  up,  and  Captain 
Cheap  began  asking  for  his  canvas;  and  on  being  told 
the  disaster  that  had  befallen  Mr.  Byron,  nothing  was 
heard  but  grumbling  for  the  loss.  Mr.  Byron  made  no 
answer  but,  resting  himself  a  little,  rose  and  returned  at 
least  five  miles  to  the  burden,  with  which  he  returned  just 
as  the  others  were  embarking  to  cross  a  great  lake  which 
seemed  to  wash  the  foot  of  the  Cordilleras.  He  was  left 
behind  to  wait  the  arrival  of  some  more  Indians,  with- 
out a  morsel  of  food,  or  even  a  part  of  the  seal  meat  that 
had  cost  him  so  much  anxiety. 

When  they  were  led  at  last  to  a  small  Spanish 
garrison  called  Castro,  only  four  of  the  party  had 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      281 

survived  the  journey,  Midshipman  Byron,  Lieuten- 
ant Hamilton  of  the  Royal  Marines,  Lieutenant 
Alexander  Campbell,  and  Captain  Cheap.  Al- 
though the  English  were  enemies,  the  corregidor 
and  the  Jesuit  priests  felt  pity  for  these  poor  vic- 
tims, and  treated  them  with  great  kindness.  When 
they  had  recovered,  they  were  escorted  to  the  larger 
town  of  Choca  with  a  guard  of  thirty  Spanish 
soldiers.  At  this  seaport  of  the  Chilean  coast  the 
governor  entertained  them  handsomely  and  invited 
them  to  travel  on  his  annual  tour  through  the  dis- 
tricts of  his  province.  Midshipman  Byron  was  so 
popular  with  the  ladies  that  he  had  to  steer  a  very 
careful  course  to  avoid  entanglements.  He  was  the 
guest  of  one  doting  mother  who  had  two  very  hand- 
some daughters,  and  she  straightway  sent  a  message 
to  the  governor  asking  that  the  young  Englishman 
be  sent  back  to  spend  a  month  with  the  family. 

This  was  not  so  serious  as  the  affair  with  the  niece 
of  the  rich  and  venerable  priest,  a  highly  educated 
damsel 

whose  person  was  good,  though  she  was  not  a  regular 
beauty.  Casting  an  amorous  eye  on  Mr.  Byron,  she 
first  proposed  to  her  uncle  to  convert  him  and  then  begged 
his  consent  to  marry  him.  The  old  man's  affection  for 
his  niece  induced  his  ready  acquiescence  to  her  wishes, 
and  on  the  next  visit  Mr.  Byron  was  acquainted  with  the 
lady's  designs.  The  uncle  unlocked  many  chests  and 


282     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

boxes  before  him,  first  showing  what  a  number  of  fine 
clothes  his  niece  had  and  then  exhibiting  his  own  ward- 
robe which  he  said  should  be  Mr.  Byron's  at  his  death. 
Among  other  things  he  produced  a  piece  of  linen,  engag- 
ing that  it  should  immediately  be  made  up  into  shirts  for 
his  use.  Mr.  Byron  felt  this  last  article  a  great  tempta- 
tion, yet  he  had  the  resolution  to  withstand  it,  and  de- 
clined the  honor  intended  him,  with  the  best  excuses  he  was 
able  to  frame. 

Some  time  after  they  had  been  at  Chaco,  a  ship  arrived 
from  Lima  which  occasioned  great  joy  amongst  the  inhab- 
itants, as  no  ship  had  been  there  the  year  before  on  ac- 
count of  the  alarm  of  Commodore  Anson's  squadron. 
The  captain  of  her  was  an  old  man,  well  known  upon  the 
island,  who  had  been  trading  there  for  thirty  years  past. 
He  had  a  remarkably  large  head  and  was  commonly  known 
by  the  nick-name  of  Cabuco  de  Toro,  or  Bull's-head.  Not 
a  week  had  elapsed  after  his  arrival  before  he  came  to  the 
governor  with  a  melancholy  countenance,  saying  that  he 
had  not  slept  a  wink  since  he  came  into  the  harbor  be- 
cause the  governor  was  pleased  to  allow  three  English 
prisoners  to  walk  about  at  liberty,  whom  he  expected  every 
minute  would  board  his  vessel  and  carry  her  away,  al- 
though he  said  he  had  more  than  thirty  sailors  on  board. 
The  governor  answered  that  he  would  be  responsible  for 
the  behavior  of  the  three  Englishmen,  but  could  not  help 
laughing  at  the  old  man.  Notwithstanding  these  assur- 
ances, Captain  Bull's-head  used  the  utmost  despatch  in 
disposing  of  his  cargo  and  put  to  sea  again,  not  consid- 
ering himself  safe  until  he  lost  sight  of  Chaco. 

The  officers  of  the  Wager  were  compelled  to  wait 
for  another  of  the  infrequent  trading  ships  from 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      283 

Lima,  and  it  was  therefore  in  January,  1743,  be- 
fore they  made  the  next  stage  of  their  interminable 
pilgrimage.  They  were  sent  ashore  at  Valparaiso, 
where  the  Spanish  governor  promptly  threw  them 
into  prison;  but  he  later  forwarded  them  to  Santi- 
ago, the  capital  of  Chile,  where  they  wer?  hand- 
somely released  on  parole. 

In  Santiago  at  that  time  were  Admiral  Pizarro 
and  several  officers  of  the  squadron  which  had  been 
sent  out  from  Spain  to  intercept  Commodore  Anson 
and  drive  him  away  from  the  rich  trade  routes  of  the 
Pacific.  It  was  a  powerful  force  of  six  men-of-war, 
with  a  total  of  three  hundred  guns  and  four  thou- 
sand sailors,  marines,  and  soldiers.  The  storms  of 
Cape  Horn  and  the  ravages  of  disease  crippled  the 
expedition,  and  shipwreck  almost  wiped  it  out. 
The  flagship  Asia  found  refuge  in  the  River  Plate 
with  half  her  crew  dead;  the  Esperanza  had  only 
fifty-eight  men  alive  of  the  four  hundred  and  fifty 
who  had  sailed  from  Spain  in  her,  and  of  an  entire 
regiment  of  infantry  all  but  sixty  perished.  Only 
two  ships  survived  to  return  home  after  four  years' 
absence,  and  more  than  three  thousand  Spanish 
sailors  had  found  their  graves  in  the  sea. 

While  his  flagship  was  undergoing  repairs  at 
Montevideo,  Admiral  Pizarro  made  the  journey  by 
land  across  the  Andes  to  Santiago  to  confer  with  the 


284     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Viceroy  of  Chile.  Introduced  to  the  officers  of  the 
Wager,  one  of  the  ships  of  the  enemy's  squadron 
which  he  had  hoped  to  engage  in  battle,  the  Spanish 
admiral  invited  them  to  dine  with  him  and  displayed 
the  most  perfect  courtesy.  One  of  his  staff,  Don 
Manuel  de  Guiros,  insisted  upon  advancing  them 
funds  to  the  amount  of  two  thousand  dollars.  Mid- 
shipman Byron  and  his  companions  accepted  part  of 
it,  giving  drafts  on  Lisbon,  and  were  able  to  live 
comfortably  and  await  the  next  turn  of  fortune's 
wheel. 

Two  weary  years  they  tarried  in  Santiago,  and 
were  treated  not  as  enemies  but  as  castaways. 
They  found  great  consolation  in  the  friendship  of  a 
Scotch  physician  who  was  known  as  Don  Patrico 
Gedd.  Midshipman  Byron  wrote: 

This  gentleman  had  been  a  long  time  in  the  city  and 
was  greatly  esteemed  by  the  Spaniards,  as  well  for  his 
abilities  in  his  profession  as  for  the  humanity  of  his  dis- 
position. He  no  sooner  heard  that  four  English  pris- 
oners had  arrived  in  that  country  than  he  waited  on  the 
president  and  begged  that  they  might  be  lodged  in  his 
house.  This  was  granted,  and  had  we  been  his  own  broth- 
ers we  could  not  have  met  with  a  more  friendly  reception ; 
and  during  two  years  that  we  were  with  him,  it  was  his 
constant  study  to  make  everything  as  agreeable  to  us 
as  possible.  We  were  greatly  distressed  to  think  of  the 
expense  he  was  at  upon  our  account,  but  it  was  vain  to 
argue  with  him  about  it. 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      285 

A  French  ship,  bound  from  Lima  to  Spain, 
finally  carried  them  homeward  as  passengers,  and 
they  saw  the  shores  of  England  in  November,  1745, 
or  more  than  five  years  after  the  Wager  had  been 
lost  in  the  Gulf  de  Panas  on  the  coast  of  Patagonia. 
The  boyish  midshipman  who  had  behaved  so  well 
through  all  vicissitudes  was  of  gentle  blood  and 
breeding,  and  in  England  he  was  known  as  the 
Honorable  John  Byron,  second  son  of  the  fourth 
Lord  Byron.  When  he  landed  at  Dover  with  two 
of  his  shipmates  his  troubles  were  not  quite  at  an 
end,  and  to  quote  his  own  words : 

We  directly  set  off  for  Canterbury  upon  post-horses, 
but  Captain  Cheap  was  so  tired  by  the  time  he  got  there 
that  he  could  proceed  no  farther  that  night.  The  next 
morning  he  still  found  himself  so  much  fatigued  that  he 
could  ride  no  longer ;  therefore  it  was  agreed  that  he  and 
Mr.  Hamilton  should  take  a  post-chaise  and  that  I  should 
ride.  But  here  an  unlucky  difficulty  was  started;  for 
upon  sharing  the  little  money  we  had,  it  was  found  to  be 
not  sufficient  to  pay  the  charges  to  London,  and  my  pro- 
portion fell  so  short  that  it  was,  by  calculation,  bare 
enough  to  pay  for  horses,  without  a  farthing  for  eating 
a  morsel  upon  the  road  or  even  for  the  very  turnpikes. 
Thus  I  was  obliged  to  defraud  by  riding  as  hard  as  I 
could  through  the  toll-gates,  not  paying  the  least  regard 
to  the  men  who  called  out  to  stop  me.  The  want  of  re- 
freshment I  bore  as  well  as  I  could. 

When  I  got  to  the  Borough  of  London  I  took  a  coach 
and  drove  to  Marlborough  Street  where  my  friends  lived 


286     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

when  I  left  England  but  when  I  came  there  I  found  the 
place  shut  up.  Having  been  absent  so  many  years,  and 
having,  in  all  that  time,  never  a  word  from  home,  I 
knew  not  who  was  dead  or  who  was  living  or  where  to  go 
next,  or  even  how  to  pay  the  coachman.  I  recollected  a 
linen-draper's  shop,  not  far  from  thence,  at  which  our 
family  used  to  deal.  I  therefore  drove  thither  and,  mak- 
ing myself  known,  they  paid  the  coachman.  I  then  in- 
quired after  our  family  and  was  told  that  my  sister  had 
married  Lord  Carlisle  and  was  at  that  time  in  Soho 
Square.  I  immediately  walked  to  the  house  and  knocked 
at  the  door.  But  the  porter,  not  liking  my  figure  which 
was  half  French  and  half  Spanish,  with  the  addition  of  a 
large  pair  of  boots  covered  with  dirt,  was  going  to  shut 
the  door  in  my  face  but  I  prevailed  upon  him  to  let  me  in. 
I  need  not  acquaint  the  reader  with  what  surprise  and 
joy  my  sister  received  me.  She  immediately  furnished  me 
with  money  to  appear  like  the  rest  of  my  countrymen. 
Till  that  time  I  could  not  properly  be  said  to  have  fin- 
ished all  the  extraordinary  scenes  in  which  I  had  been 
involved  by  a  series  of  adventures,  for  the  space  of  five 
years  and  upwards. 

The  Honorable  John  Byron  became  a  British 
vice-admiral  and  was  also  the  grandfather  of  the 
poet,  who  transmuted  some  of  the  exploits  of  the 
midshipman  of  the  Wager  into  the  pages  of  Don 
Juan.  As  one  of  the  most  famous  fighting  sailors 
of  his  era,  Admiral  Byron  earned  the  nickname  of 
"Foul  Weather  Jack,"  because  he  contended  so 
constantly  with  gales  and  head  winds,  and  it  is  to 


THE  WAGER  MAN-OF-WAR      287 

this  that  Lord  Byron  refers  in  his  "Epistles  to 
Augusta": 

A  strange  doom  is  thy  father's  son's,  and  past 
Recalling  as  it  lies  beyond  redress, 

Reversed  for  him  our  grandsire's  fate  of  yore, 
He  had  no  rest  at  sea,  nor  I  on  shore. 

You  will  find  that  Stevenson  mentions  him  in 
that  same  tribute  to  the  English  admirals : 

Most  men  of  high  destinies  have  high-sounding  names. 
Pymn  and  Habakkuk  may  do  pretty  well,  but  they  must 
not  think  to  cope  with  the  Cromwells  and  Isaiahs.  And 
you  could  not  find  a  better  case  in  point  than  that  of  the 
English  Admirals.  Drake  and  Rooke  and  Hawke  are 
picked  names  for  men  of  execution.  Frobisher,  Rodney, 
Boscawen,  Foul-Weather  Jack  Byron,  are  all  good  to 
catch  the  eye  in  a  page  of  naval  history. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE    WAGER'S     LONG-BOAT 

THE  story  of  the  man-of-war  Wager  was  by 
no  means  finished  when  young  Midshipman 
Byron  rode  into  London  and  was  welcomed  as  one 
risen  from  the  dead.  It  will  be  recalled  that  about 
twenty  of  the  crew  persisted  in  the  attempt  to  sail 
homeward  by  way  of  the  Strait  of  Magellan.  They 
had  been  at  sea  only  a  few  days  when  the  cutter,  the 
smaller  of  their  two  boats,  was  knocked  to  pieces 
among  the  rocks,  and  the  survivors  were  therefore 
jammed  into  the  long-boat,  which  had  room  for  no 
more  than  half  of  them.  How  they  managed  to 
stay  afloat  is  a  mystery  that  cannot  be  fathomed, 
with  the  gunwales  only  a  few  inches  above  water 
and  scarcely  any  space  to  row  or  steer  or  handle  sail. 
They  quarreled  continually,  and  "hardly  ten  testi- 
fied any  anxiety  about  the  welfare  of  the  voyage  but 
rather  seemed  ripe  for  mutiny  and  destruction." 
Eleven  of  the  company  soon  preferred  to  quit  this 
madhouse  of  a  boat  and  to  face  a  less  turbulent 
death  ashore,  and  at  their  own  request  they  were 
landed  on  the  coast  of  Patagonia. 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      289 

The  long-boat,  still  overcrowded  to  a  degree  that 
meant  incredible  discomfort  and  danger,  blundered 
on  her  course,  with  only  the  sun  and  stars  for  guid- 
ance. A  little  flour  and  some  other  stores  had  been 
taken  from  the  wreck,  and  now  occurred  a  curious 
manifestation  of  human  selfishness,  of  the  struggle 
for  survival  reduced  to  the  lowest  terms.  The  offi- 
cers had  endeavored  to  ration  the  food,  share  and 
share  alike,  but  the  ugly  temper  of  the  men  made 
such  prudent  precautions  impossible,  and  some  ob- 
tained more  provisions  than  others.  The  situation 
was  described  by  one  of  them  in  these  words : 

The  people  on  board  began  to  barter  their  allowance  of 
provisions  for  other  articles.  Flour  was  valued  at  twelve 
shillings  a  pound,  but,  before  night,  it  rose  to  a  guinea. 
Some  were  now  absolutely  starving  for  want — and  the  day 
following,  George  Bateman,  a  lad  of  sixteen,  expired,  be- 
ing reduced  to  a  perfect  skeleton.  On  the  19th,  Thomas 
Capell,  aged  twelve  years,  son  of  the  late  Lieutenant 
Capell,  died  of  want.  A  person  on  board  had  above 
twenty  guineas  of  his  money,  along  with  a  watch  and  a 
silver  cup.  The  latter  the  boy  wished  to  sell  for  flour; 
but  his  guardian  told  him  it  would  buy  clothes  for  him 
in  the  Brazils. 

"Sir,"  cried  the  miserable  youth,  "I  shall  never  live  to 
see  the  Brazils,  I  am  now  starving — almost  starved  to 
death ;  therefore  give  me  my  silver  cup,  for  God's  sake,  to 
get  me  some  victuals,  or  buy  some  for  me  yourself/' 

But  all  his  prayers  and  entreaties  were  vain,  and 
Heaven  sent  death  to  his  relief.  Those  who  have  not  ex- 


290     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

perienced  such  hardships  will  wonder  how  people  can  be  so 
inhuman  as  to  witness  their  fellow  creatures  starving  be- 
fore their  faces  without  affording  them  succor,  but  hunger 
is  void  of  all  compassion. 

They  actually  sailed  through  the  Strait  of  Ma- 
gellan and  reached  the  Atlantic  after  two  months 
of  suffering  during  which  twenty  men  died  of 
famine  and  disease.  Landing  wherever  possible, 
they  found  seal  and  fish  or  traded  with  wandering 
Indians  for  dogs  and  wild  geese  to  eat.  Of  the  sur- 
vivors no  more  than  fifteen  were  able  to  stand  or  to 
crawl  about  the  boat.  A  happier  fate  was  granted 
them  when  they  coasted  along  the  wilderness  of  the 
Argentine  and  found  thousands  of  wild  horses, 
which  kept  them  plentifully  supplied  with  meat. 
At  length  they  came  to  the  Rio  Grande  and  the 
town  of  Montevideo,  and  thirty  of  them  were  alive, 
or  half  the  number  that  had  made  the  voyage  in  the 
long-boat. 

Among  those  who  died  almost  within  sight  of 
rescue  was  Thomas  MacLean,  the  cook,  a  patriarch 
of  eighty-two  years,  presumably  one  of  those  soldier 
pensioners  who  had  been  snatched  from  his 
well-earned  repose  at  Chelsea  Hospital.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  facts  of  the  whole 
story*,  that  this  tough  old  veteran  of  a  red-coat,  his 
age  past  four  score,  should  have  lived  all  those 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      291 

months,  during  which  the  great  majority  of  the 
younger  officers  and  men  of  the  Wager  had  been 
blotted  out  by  privations  which  seemed  beyond 
human  endurance 

While  the  long-boat  was  standing  along  the  coast, 
on  this  last  stretch  of  the  journey,  there  came  a  time 
when  there  was  no  food  or  water  left.  There  was 
no  small  boat  to  send  ashore,  so  nine  of  the  strongest 
men  offered  to  swim  to  the  beach  and  see  what  they 
could  find.  Over  they  went,  feeble  as  they  were, 
and  all  reached  shore  except  one  marine,  who  had  so 
little  strength  to  spare  that  he  sank  like  a  stone. 
Those  in  the  long-boat  let  several  empty  water- 
casks  drift  to  the  land  and  tied  to  them  some  mus- 
kets and  ammunition  wrapped  in  tarred  canvas.  A 
gale  blew  the  long-boat  out  to  sea  and  disabled  her 
rudder.  Tacking  back  with  great  difficulty,  she 
found  it  impossible  to  lay  to  and  bring  off  the  eight 
men,  and  another  cask  was  floated  off  to  them,  con- 
taining a  letter  of  farewell,  and  more  ammunition, 
and  the  boat  made  sail,  and  vanished  to  the  north- 
ward. 

The  adventures  of  this  little  band  of  seamen,  acci- 
dentally marooned  in  this  manner,  were  most  re- 
markable. They  are  almost  unknown  to  history, 
although  a  century  and  more  ago  much  was  written 
about  the  Wager.  The  heroism  and  manliness  of 


292     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

this  group  of  actors  go  far  to  redeem  many  other 
episodes  of  the  disaster  which  were  profoundly 
shameful,  and  they  are  the  chief  reason  for  recalling 
the  cruise  of  the  long-boat.  Said  Isaac  Morris,  one 
of  them: 

We  found  ourselves  on  a  wild,  desolate  part  of  the 
world,  fatigued,  sickly,  and  destitute  of  provisions. 
However,  we  had  arms  and  ammunition  and  while  these 
lasted  we  made  a  tolerable  shift  for  a  livelihood.  The 
nearest  inhabited  place  of  which  we  knew  was  Buenos 
Ayres,  about  three  hundred  miles  to  the  northwest:  but 
we  were  then  miserably  reduced  by  our  tedious  passage 
through  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  and  in  a  poor  condition 
to  undertake  so  hazardous  a  journey.  Nothing  remained 
but  to  commit  ourselves  to  kind  Providence,  an  dmake  the 
best  of  the  melancholy  situation  until  our  health  became 
recruited. 

We  were  eight  in  number  thus  abandoned  by  our  com- 
rades, for  whose  preservation  we  had  risked  our  lives  by 
swimming  ashore  for  provisions,  and  our  names  Guy 
Broadwater,  Samuel  Cooper,  Benjamin  Smith,  John  Duck, 
Joseph  Clinch,  John  Andrews,  John  Allen,  and  myself. 
After  deliberating  on  our  unhappy  circumstances  and 
comforting  each  other  with  imaginary  hopes,  we  came  to 
the  resolution  of  taking  up  our  quarters  on  the  beach 
where  we  landed  until  becoming  strong  enough  to  undergo 
the  fatigue  of  a  journey  to  Buenos  Ayres. 

There  was  no  senseless  chatter  about  mutiny,  no 
selfish  bickering.  They  were  sturdily  resolved  to 
stick  together  and  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain. 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT       293 

For  a  month  they  lived  in  a  burrow  in  the  sand, 
knocking  a  seal  on  the  head  whenever  they  needed 
food.  As  preparation  for  the  journey  they  made 
knapsacks  of  sealskin,  filled  them  with  the  dried 
flesh,  and  used  the  bladders  for  water  bottles. 
Muskets  on  their  shoulders,  they  trudged  for  sixty 
miles,  when  no  more  fresh  water  could  be  found,  and 
they  retreated  to  their  camp  to  await  the  rainy  sea- 
son. Now  they  built  a  sort  of  hut  under  the  lee  of 
a  cliff  and  varied  the  diet  of  seal  by  catching  arma- 
dillos and  stewing  them  in  seaweed.  Their  patience 
was  amazing,  and  Seaman  Isaac  Morris  wrote  of 
this  weary  inaction: 

Nothing  remarkable  happened  to  us  in  the  course  of 
these  three  months.  Our  provision,  such  as  it  was,  did 
not  cost  us  much  difficulty  to  procure,  and  we  were  sup- 
plied with  fire-wood  from  a  small  coppice  about  seven 
miles  distant.  We  seldom  failed  of  bringing  home  some- 
thing every  night  and  generally  had  a  hot  supper.  The 
time  passed  as  cheerfully  as  might  be  with  poor  fellows  in 
such  circumstances  as  ours. 

Again  they  set  out  on  foot,  in  the  month  of  May, 
after  burdening  their  backs  with  seal  and  armadillo 
meat,  and  traversed  a  barren,  open  country  until 
incessant  cold  rains  chilled  them  to  the  bone  and  no 
supplies  of  any  kind  were  obtainable.  There  was 
prolonged  argument,  and  the  majority  was  for  re- 


294     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

turning  once  more  to  the  hut  they  had  left  behind  as 
the  nearest  refuge.  Back  they  toiled  over  the  same 
old  trail,  cast  down,  but  not  disheartened,  and  still 
loyal  comrades  who  "bound  themselves  never  to  quit 
each  other  unless  compelled  by  a  superior  force." 
They  had  a  certain  amount  of  order  and  discipline, 
four  of  them  out  hunting  for  food  on  one  day  and 
remaining  in  camp  the  next  day  while  the  other  four 
ranged  the  country  for  deer  and  the  coast  for  seal. 
Wild  dogs  were  numerous,  and  several  litters  of 
puppies  were  adopted  until  every  man  had  a  brace 
of  them  as  his  faithful  friends  and  helpers.  Several 
young  pigs  were  also  taken  into  the  family,  and  they 
trotted  contentedly  along  with  the  dogs. 

The  eight  seamen  lived  in  this  strangely  simple 
and  solitary  manner  until  seven  months  had  passed, 
and  then  they  concluded  to  make  another  attempt  to 
escape  from  the  bondage  of  circumstances.  Not  an 
Indian  had  been  seen,  and  there  was  no  reason  to 
believe  that  they  had  been  discovered  or  observed. 
They  merited  good  fortune,  did  these  stanch  and 
courageous  castaways,  but  the  curse  of  the  Wager 
had  followed  them.  While  they  were  getting  to- 
gether supplies  for  another  journey  toward  Buenos 
Aires,  Samuel  Cooper,  John  Andrews,  John  Duck, 
and  Isaac  Morris  went  some  distance  along  the 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      295 

beach  to  hunt  seals.  Late  in  the  day  they  were  re- 
turning to  the  hut  when  the  dogs  were  seen  to  be 
running  and  barking  in  much  agitation.  The  four 
men  hurried  to  the  hut,  which  was  empty  and  plun- 
dered of  muskets,  powder,  and  ball,  sealskin  clothes, 
dried  meat — everything  they  possessed. 

Scouting  outside,  one  of  the  sailors  shouted  to 
Morris : 

"Aye,  Isaac,  something  much  worse  has  hap- 
pened, for  yonder  lie  poor  Guy  Broadwater  and 
Benjamin  Smith  murdered." 

One  poor  fellow  was  found  with  his  throat  cut, 
and  the  other  had  been  stabbed  in  the  breast.  Their 
bodies  were  still  warm,  and,  afraid  the  assassins 
might  be  somewhere  near,  the  four  men  ran  hard 
and  hid  in  a  rocky  bight  a  mile  away  until  next 
morning,  for  they  had  no  firearms  left.  Of  the  four 
who  had  been  overtaken  in  this  tragedy,  Joseph 
Clinch  and  John  Allen  had  vanished,  nor  was  any 
trace  of  them  discovered.  It  was  sadly  agreed  that 
Indians  must  have  killed  two  and  carried  the  two 
others  away  with  them.  The  four  survivors  were 
deprived  not  only  of  their  comrades,  but  of  their 
precious  muskets  and  the  means  of  making  fire. 
Never  were  men  left  more  naked  and  defenseless  in 
a  hostile  wilderness.  In  this  plight  Samuel  Cooper, 


296     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

John  Andrews,  John  Duck,  and  Isaac  Morris 
trudged  off  for  the  third  time  to  look  for  the  mouth 
of  the  River  Plate  and  Buenos  Aires. 

With  them  trooped  sixteen  dogs  and  two  pigs, 
and  it  must  have  been  an  odd  caravan  .to  behold. 
They  carried  thefr  provender  on  the  hoof  this  time. 
By  following  the  sea-coast,  they  found  pools  of  fresh 
water  among  the  sand-dunes,  where  the  heavy  rains 
had  not  yet  filtered  into  the  ground,  and  a  dead 
whale  washed  up  on  the  beach  served  for  several 
hearty  meals.  They  got  along  without  great  diffi- 
culty until  ten  days  of  travel  found  them  mired  in 
endless  swamps  and  bogs,  which  they  could  find  no 
way  of  crossing.  Again  they  retreated  to  the 
starting-place  at  the  hut,  but  the  amiable  pigs  were 
no  longer  in  the  troop.  There  were  not  so  many 
dogs,  and  their  number  steadily  dwindled ;  for  there 
would  have  been  no  bill  of  fare  without  them. 

Three  months  more  the  four  unconquerable  sea- 
men lingered  in  their  exile,  at  their  wits'  ends  to  plan 
a  way  of  escape,  because  the  exodus  to  Buenos  Aires 
had  been  given  up  as  hopeless.  Then  they  discov- 
ered a  large  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  on  the  beach,  and 
conceived  the  wild  notion  of  fashioning  some  kind 
of  boat  of  it  and  hoisting  a  sail  of  sealskins  sewed 
together  with  sinews.  They  had  no  tools  whatever, 
barring  a  pocket-knife  or  two,  but  this  could  not  dis- 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT       297 

courage  the  handy  mariners.  John  Duck  happened 
to  remember  that  during  the  first  journey  toward 
Buenos  Aires  eleven  months  before,  he  had  thrown 
away  his  musket  because  the  lock  was  broken.  It 
occurred  to  one  of  them  that  the  iron  of  the  barrel 
might  be  pounded  into  something  like  a  hatchet,  and 
what  did  the  quartet  do  but  take  a  little  seal  meat 
and  water  and  walk  sixty  miles  to  look  for  that 
musket.  They  found  it,  which  was  still  more  won- 
derful, and  beat  half  the  length  of  the  barrel  flat, 
using  stones  as  hammer  and  anvil,  and  whetted  an 
edge  on  the  rough  rocks. 

They  were  about  to  attack  the  project  of  making 
a  boat  when  a  dozen  horses  came  galloping  along  the 
beach,  and  there  were  Indians  on  their  backs. 
They  were  as  astonished  as  the  British  seamen,  but 
had  no  intention  of  shedding  blood,  and  promptly 
whisked  their  prisoners  up  behind  them.  At  a 
great  pace  the  Indian  horsemen  rode  several  miles 
inland  to  a  camp  where  a  dozen  of  them  were  round- 
ing up  wild  horses.  It  affords  a  glimpse  of  what 
the  life  had  been  in  that  hut  on  the  Patagonian  coast 
to  hear  Isaac  Morris  say : 

"We  were  treated  with  great  humanity;  they 
killed  a  horse,  kindled  a  fire,  and  roasted  part  of  it, 
which  to  us  who  had  been  eating  raw  flesh  three 
months  was  most  delicious  entertainment.  They 


298     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

also  gave  each  of  us  a  piece  of  an  old  blanket  to 
cover  our  nakedness." 

Two  hundred  miles  back  into  the  mountainous 
interior,  where  white  men  had  never  been  seen,  the 
wandering  party  of  horse-hunting  Indians  carried 
the  four  sailors.  These  were  sporting  savages  with 
a  taste  for  gambling,  and  it  is  chronicled  that  "in 
this  place  we  were  bought  and  sold  four  different 
times,  for  a  pair  of  spurs,  a  brass  pan,  ostrich  feath- 
ers and  such  trifles,  which  was  the  low  price  gen- 
erally set  on  each  of  us;  and  sometimes  we  were 
played  away  at  dice,  so  that  we  changed  masters 
several  times  in  a  day." 

A  few  weeks  later  the  band  of  nomad  Indians  was 
joined  by  other  parties,  and  together,  with  a  train 
of  fifteen  hundred  horses,  they  moved  by  easy  stages 
far  inland,  almost  a  thousand  miles  from  the  coast, 
and  came  in  four  months'  time  to  the  capital,  or 
chief  town  of  the  tribe,  where  the  king  claimed  the 
seamen  as  his  own  property.  He  spoke  a  little 
Spanish,  and  hated  the  Spaniards  so  cordially  that 
his  friendly  regard  was  offered  these  wanderers  be- 
cause they  had  served  in  an  English  man-of-war  of 
a  squadron  sent  against  the  enemy.  They  were 
slaves,  it  is  true,  but  this  condition  was  tempered 
with  kindness,  and  for  eight  months  they  lived  and 
labored  among  these  wild  horsemen  of  South 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      299 

America.  When  the  season  of  spring  arrived,  the 
tribe  broke  camp  for  the  long  pilgrimage  to  the 
pampas  and  the  chase  of  the  wild  horses  which  sup- 
plied food  and  raiment. 

The  customary  route  to  the  sea  passed  within  a 
hundred  miles  of  Buenos  Aires,  and  the  sailors  per- 
suaded their  masters  that  it  was  worth  while  trying 
to  obtain  ransom  for  them.  At  last  there  was  a 
tangible  hope  of  extricating  themselves,  but  it 
brought  joy  only  to  three  of  the  four  comrades. 
Poor  John  Duck  happened  to  be  a  mulatto  born  in 
London,  and  his  brown  skin  won  the  fancy  of  the 
Indians,  who  insisted  that  he  was  of  their  own  blood. 
Therefore  they  refused  to  part  with  him  and  he  was 
sold  for  a  very  high  price  to  another  chief  in  a  region 
even  more  remote,  and  this  was  the  last  of  him.  His 
three  shipmates  were  very  sorrowful  at  leaving  him, 
no  doubt,  and  it  must  have  been  an  incident  deeply 
moving  when  they  shook  hands  and  went  their  op- 
posite ways,  for  they  had  suffered  manifold  things 
together  and  carried  it  off  magnificently.  And  in 
their  minds  there  must  have  been  the  memory  of 
that  vow  they  had  sworn  together  "never  to  quit 
each  other  unless  compelled  by  a  superior  force." 

The  chief  was  faithful  to  his  word  in  sending  a 
messenger  to  Buenos  Aires,  where  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernor expressed  his  willingness  to  buy  three  English 


300     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

prisoners  at  the  bargain  price  of  ninety  dollars  for 
the  lot. 

In  this  manner  were  Midshipman  Morris  and 
Samuel  Cooper  and  John  Andrews  delivered 
from  their  captivity  in  the  wilds  of  Patagonia, 
though  they  were  not  yet  to  see  the  long  road  home 
to  England.  The  Spanish  governor  of  Buenos 
Aires  behaved  toward  them  like  a  very  courteous 
gentleman,  but  felt  it  his  bounden  duty  to  labor  with 
them  for  the  good  of  their  souls.  "He  sent  for  us 
several  times,"  Midshipman  Morris  tells  us,  "and 
earnestly  urged  us  to  turn  Catholics  and  serve  the 
king  of  Spain;  to  which  we  answered  that  we  were 
Protestants  and  true  Englishmen  and  hoped  to  die 
so.  Many  tempting  offers  were  made  to  seduce  us 
but,  thank  God,  we  resisted  them  all." 

This  obstinacy  vexed  the  conscientious  governor, 
and  he  sent  the  three  heretics  on  board  of  the  man- 
of-war  Asia,,  the  flag-ship  of  Admiral  Pizarro's 
squadron,  which  was  then  lying  at  Montevideo. 
Aboard  the  Asia  the  three  Englishmen  were  con- 
fined more  than  a  year,  with  sixteen  other  unlucky 
seamen  of  their  own  race.  They  complained  that 
they  were  treated  more  like  galley-slaves  than  pris- 
oners of  war,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  they  should 
try  to  escape.  A  sentry  was  tied  and  gagged  one 
night,  and  the  Britons  swam  for  the  shore,  a  quarter 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT       301 

of  a  mile  away.  Most  of  them  were  overtaken  in  a 
boat,  but  Isaac  Morris  and  one  sailor,  naked  as  the 
day  they  were  born,  scrambled  into  the  jungle,  and 
had  such  a  piteous  time  of  it  that  they  were  glad  to 
surrender  to  the  laborers  of  the  nearest  plantation. 
Taken  back  to  the  ship,  they  were  thrust  into  the 
stocks,  neck  and  heels,  four  hours  a  day  for  a  fort- 
night as  a  hint  to  discourage  such  rash  enterprise. 

Admiral  Pizarro  had  journeyed  overland  to 
Chile,  and  in  the  very  leisurely  course  of  time  he 
returned  to  Buenos  Aires  to  set  sail  for  Spain  in  his 
flag-ship,  having  achieved  nothing  more  than  a  wild- 
goose  chase  in  quest  of  the  daring  Anson.  The 
towering,  ornate  Asia  was  refitted  as  completely  as 
possible,  but  there  was  a  great  lack  of  seamen. 
More  than  half  her  crew  had  died  of  scurvy  or  de- 
serted during  the  long  voyage  and  the  year  at  an 
anchorage.  Press-gangs  combed  the  streets  and 
dives  of  Buenos  Aires  and  Montevideo,  but  the  ship 
could  not  find  a  proper  complement,  and,  as  a  last 
resort,  eleven  Indians  were  unceremoniously  thrown 
on  board.  They  had  been  captured  while  raiding 
the  outposts  of  the  thinly  held  Spanish  settlements, 
and  were  of  a  fighting  tribe  which  preferred  death  to 
submission  to  the  cruel  and  rapacious  invader. 

One  of  these  eleven  Indians  was  a  chief  by  the 
name  of  Orellana  and  a  man  to  be  considered  note- 


302     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

worthy  even  in  that  age  of  high  adventure.  When 
dragged  aboard  the  Spanish  flag-ship,  he  and  his 
fellows  were,  of  course,  handled  like  dogs, 

being  treated  with  much  insolence  and  barbarity  by  the 
Spaniards,  the  meanest  officers  among  whom  were  accus- 
tomed to  beat  them  on  the  slightest  pretences.  Orellana 
and  his  followers,  though  apparently  patient  and  submis- 
sive, meditated  a  severe  revenge.  He  endeavored  to  con- 
verse with  such  of  the  English  as  understood  the  Span- 
ish language  and  seemed  very  desirous  of  learning  how 
many  of  them  were  on  board  and  which  they  were.  But 
not  finding  them  so  precipitate  and  vindictive  as  he  ex- 
pected, after  distantly  sounding  them,  he  proceeded  no 
farther  in  respect  to  their  participation,  but  resolved  to 
trust  his  enterprise  to  himself  and  his  ten  faithful  follow- 
ers. 

In  short,  these  eleven  unarmed  Indians  were 
planning  an  uprising  in  a  sixty-gun  ship  with  a  crew 
of  nearly  five  hundred  Spaniards.  It  was  an  enter- 
prise so  utterly  insane  that  the  level-headed  English 
seamen  refused  to  consider  it.  They  regarded  Orel- 
lana and  his  ten  comrades  as  poor,  misguided 
wretches  who  knew  no  better  and  who  had  been 
driven  quite  mad  by  abuse.  Of  all  the  tales  of 
mutiny  on  the  high  seas  this  must  be  set  down  as  un- 
paralleled, and  it  seems  to  fit  in,  as  a  sort  of  climax, 
with  the  varied  and  almost  endless  adventures  of  the 
people  who  were  wrecked  in  the  Wager. 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      303 

The  eleven  Indians  first  stole  a  few  sailor's  knives, 
which  was  fairly  easy  to  do,  and  then  they  manufac- 
tured the  singular  weapon  still  in  use  on  the  plains 
of  the  Argentine  and  which  Midshipman  Morris  de- 
scribed as  follows : 

They  were  secretly  employed  in  cutting  out  thongs  from 
raw-hides,  to  the  ends  of  which  they  fixed  the  double- 
headed  shot  of  the  small  quarter-deck  guns.  This,  when 
swung  round  their  heads  and  let  fly,  is  a  dangerous 
weapon  and,  as  already  observed,  they  are  extremely  ex- 
pert with  it.  An  outrage  committed  on  the  chief  him- 
self, precipitated  the  execution  of  his  daring  enterprise; 
for  one  of  the  officers,  a  brutal  fellow,  having  ordered  him 
aloft,  of  which  he  was  incapable  of  performance,  then, 
under  pretence  of  disobedience,  cruelly  beat  him  and  left 
him  bleeding  on  the  deck. 

It  was  a  day  or  two  after  this,  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening,  when  the  Spanish  officers  were  strolling 
upon  the  poop,  that  Orellana  and  his  ten  compan- 
ions came  toward  them  and  drifted  close  to  the  open 
doors  of  the  great  cabin  in  which  Admiral  Pizarro 
and  his  staff  were  lounging,  with  cigars  and  wine. 
The  boatswain  roughly  ordered  the  Indians  away. 
With  a  plan  of  action  carefully  preconceived,  the 
intruders  slowly  retreated,  but  six  of  them  remained 
together,  while  two  moved  to  each  of  the  gangways, 
and  so  blocked  the  approaches  to  the  quarter-deck. 


304     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

As  soon  as  they  were  stationed,  Orellana  yelled  a 
war  whoop,  "which  is  the  harshest  and  most  terrific 
noise  that  can  be  imagined." 

With  knives  and  with  the  deadly  bolas,  or  thonged 
missiles,  the  eleven  Indians  made  a  slaughter-house 
of  the  flag-ship's  spacious  poop.  Spanish  sentinels 
of  the  guard,  seamen  on  watch,  boatswain's  mates, 
and  the  sailors  at  the  steering  tackles,  sailing  mas- 
ters and  dandified  officers,  were  mowed  down  as  by  a 
murderous  hurricane  before  they  could  find  their 
wits  or  their  arms.  In  the  fury  of  this  first  on- 
slaught twenty  of  the  ship's  company  were  laid  dead 
on  the  spot  and  as  many  more  were  disabled. 
Those  who  survived  were  in  no  mood  to  mobilize  any 
resistance.  Some  tumbled  into  the  great  cabin, 
where  they  extinguished  the  candles  and  barricaded 
the  doors,  while  others  flew  into  the  main-shrouds 
and  took  refuge  in  the  tops  or  in  the  rigging. 

It  was  sheer  panic  which  spread  forward  along 
the  decks  until  it  reached  the  forecastle.  The 
officers  were  killed  or  in  hiding,  and  the  leaderless 
sailors  assumed  that  the  English  prisoners  were 
leading  the  upheaval.  A  few  of  the  wounded  men 
scrambled  forward  in  the  darkness  and  told  the 
watch  on  deck  that  the  after  guard  had  been  wiped 
out  and  the  ship  was  in  the  hands  of  mutineers. 
Thereupon  the  Spanish  seamen  prudently  locked 


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o    5 

d.      8 

£  3 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      305 

themselves  in  the  forecastle  or  swarmed  out  on  the 
bowsprit  and  into  the  fore  rigging.  Orellana  and 
his  ten  Indians  were  completely  in  possession  of  the 
sixty-gun  flag-ship,  the  admiral,  and  the  crew  of 
almost  five  hundred  Spaniards.  For  the  moment 
they  had  achieved  the  impossible. 

The  officers  and  crew,  who  had  escaped  into  different 
parts  of  the  ship,  were  anxious  only  for  their  own 
safety,  and  incapable  of  forming  any  plan  for  quelling  the 
insurrection.  The  yells  of  the  Indians,  indeed,  the  groans 
of  the  wounded,  and  the  confused  clamors  of  the  crew,  all 
heightened  by  the  obscurity  prevailing,  greatly  magnified 
the  danger  at  first.  The  Spanish,  likewise,  sensible  of  the 
disaffection  of  the  impressed  men,  and  at  the  same  time 
conscious  of  the  barbarity  their  prisoners  had  experi- 
enced, believed  that  it  was  a  general  conspiracy  and  that 
their  own  destruction  was  inevitable. 

A  strange  interval  of  silence  fell  upon  the  blood- 
stained ship  as  she  rolled,  without  guidance,  to  the 
impulses  of  a  gentle  sea,  while  the  canvas  flapped 
and  the  yards  creaked  as  the  breeze  took  her  aback. 
The  conquering  Indians  were  vigilant  and  anxious, 
unable  to  leave  the  quarter-deck,  where  they  held 
the  mastery,  the  Spanish  crew  lying  low,  as  it  were, 
and  wondering  what  might  happen  next.  Orellana 
promptly  broke  open  the  arms-chest,  which  had  been 
conveyed  to  the  poop  a  few  days  previously  as  a 
safeguard  against  mutiny.  In  it  he  confidently  ex- 


306     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

pected  to  find  cutlasses  enough  to  equip  his  men, 
and  with  these  weapons  they  would  hew  their  way 
into  the  great  cabin  and  cut  down  the  surviving 
officers.  Alas !  for  the  cleverly  contrived  plans,  the 
chest  contained  only  muskets  and  pistols,  and  the 
Indians  had  never  learned  how  to  use  fire-arms. 

Meanwhile  that  high  and  mighty  personage  Ad- 
miral Pizarro  was  using  animated  language  in  the 
great  cabin,  and  Spanish  oaths  are  beyond  all  others 
for  crackling  eloquence.  His  guests  had  begun  to 
compose  their  scrambled  wits,  and  through  the  win- 
dows and  port-holes  they  were  able  to  talk  things 
over  with  their  friends  who  were  hiding  in  the  gun- 
room and  between  decks.  From  these  sources  it 
was  learned  that  those  unholy  devils,  the  English 
prisoners,  were  not  concerned  in  the  hurricane  of  a 
rebellion,  and  that  the  prodigious  affair  was  solely 
the  work  of  the  eleven  rampant  Indians.  The  ad- 
miral looked  less  disconsolate,  and  his  officers 
breathed  easier.  It  was  resolved  to  storm  the  quar- 
ter-deck before  the  storm  gathered  more  headway. 

There  were  pistols  in  the  great  cabin,  but  neither 
powder  nor  ball,  but  a  bucket  was  lowered  to  the 
gun-room  on  the  deck  below,  and  plenty  of  ammu- 
nition was  fished  up.  Cautiously  unbarring  the 
cabin  doors,  they  began  to  take  pot-shots  at  the  In- 
dians, and  were  lucky  enough  to  shoot  Orellana 


THE  WAGER'S  LONG-BOAT      307 

through  the  head.  When  his  followers  saw  him  fall 
and  discovered  that  he  was  dead,  to  a  man  these  ten 
heroes  leaped  over  the  bulwark  and  perished  in  the 
sea.  They  knew  how  to  finish  in  style,  and  the 
admiral  was  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  swinging 
them  to  a  yard-arm  to  the  flourish  of  trumpet  and 
drum. 

Midshipman  Isaac  Morris  and  his  two  shipmates 
of  the  Wager  witnessed  this  splendid  undertaking, 
or  bits  of  it,  as  they  paced  to  and  fro  under  guard  in 
the  middle  of  the  ship.  It  seemed  as  though  they 
might  be  granted  a  quieter  life  by  way  of  a  change, 
but  when  the  flag-ship  reached  Spain  they  were 
hustled  ashore  and  put  into  a  prison  for  a  fortnight, 
where  they  were  chained  together  like  common  crim- 
inals and  fed  on  bread  and  water.  After  that  they 
were  marched  off  to  an  island  by  a  file  of  mus- 
keteers, and  held  for  fourteen  weeks  in  a  sort  of 
penal  colony  among  thieves  and  felons.  The  long- 
est lane  has  a  turning,  and  there  came  at  length  a 
royal  order  providing  that  the  three  Englishmen 
should  be  sent  to  Portugal.  At  Oporto  the  English 
consul  gave  them  quarters  and  a  little  money,  and 
the  end  of  the  story  is  thus  described  by  Isaac 
Morris : 

We  embarked  in  the  Charlotte,  scow,  on  the  18th  of 
April,  1746,  and  under  convoy  of  the  York  and  Folkstone 


308     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

men-of-war,  arrived  at  London  on  the  5th  of  July  follow- 
ing; three  only  of  the  eight  men  left  on  the  coast  of  Pat- 
agonia, Samuel  Cooper,  John  Andrews,  and  myself,  being 
so  happy  as  once  more  to  see  their  native  country. 

The  Wager  had  sailed  on  her  fatal  voyage  on 
September  18,  1740,  and  had  been  lost  in  May  of 
1741.  These  three  survivors  had  therefore  spent 
more  than  five  years  in  the  endeavor  to  reach  home. 
By  devious  ways  three  parties  of  the  Wager's 
people  had  finally  extricated  themselves  from  the 
toils  of  misfortune,  Midshipman  Byron  and  Captain 
Cheap,  and  a  few  of  those  who  had  lived  through 
the  cruise  in  the  long-boat,  and  these  three  men  who 
had  been  marooned.  Left  unfinished  were  those 
other  tragic  stories,  shrouded  behind  the  curtain 
of  fate,  the  four  marines  and  their  farewell  huzza, 
the  crew  of  the  barge  who  basely  abandoned  their 
companions,  and  the  eleven  people  who  requested  to 
be  set  ashore  in  Patagonia  sooner  than  endure  the 
horrors  of  the  long-boat.  The  wreck  of  the  Wager 
is  a  yarn  of  many  strands,  an  epic  of  salt  water,  and 
still  memorable,  although  the  ship  was  lost  almost 
two  hundred  years  ago. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  GRIM  TALE  OP  THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY 

WITHIN  sight  of  Portsmouth  Harbor,  no 
more  than  a  dozen  miles  off  the  coast  where 
Maine  and  New  Hampshire  meet,  lies  Boon  Island, 
small  and  rock-bound,  upon  which  a  tall  lighthouse 
flings  its  bright  message  to  seaward.  It  is  in  the 
track  of  the  coastwise  fleets  of  fishermen  and  trad- 
ing schooners,  of  yachts  and  steamers,  of  the  varied 
traffic  which  makes  those  waters  populous;  but 
Boon  Island  was  a  very  lonely  place  two  hundred 
years  ago.  And  if  it  is  true,  as  many  mariners  be- 
lieve, that  the  ghosts  of  dead  sailors  return  from 
Davy  Jones'  locker  to  haunt  the  scenes  of  their 
torments  in  shipwreck,  then  Boon  Island  must  be 
tenanted  by  some  of  the  crew  of  the  Nottingham 
Galley. 

The  story  survives  in  the  narrative  of  the  disaster 
as  written  by  the  master  of  the  vessel,  Captain 
John  Deane.  It  was  printed  as  a  quaint  and  un- 
usual little  book,  which  is  now  exceedingly  difficult 
to  find,  and  the  fifth  edition  bears  the  date  of  1762. 

309 


310     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  tragedy  of  the  Nottingham  Galley  was  one  of 
those  instances,  lamentably  frequent,  in  which  men 
were  driven  to  the  dire  necessity  of  eating  one  an- 
other under  the  awful  compulsion  of  hunger.  Such 
a  theme  is  abhorrent,  but  to  realize  how  men  felt  in 
such  circumstances,  those  who  were  otherwise  kindly 
and  brave,  and  long-suffering,  is  to  add  to  one's 
perspective  of  human  nature  and  to  gain  truthful 
glimpses  of  what  the  toilers  of  the  sea  have  en- 
dured. When  Captain  John  Deane  took  his  pen  in 
hand  to  set  down  his  experience,  it  was  as  though 
his  conscience  had  driven  him  to  the  task,  and  he 
expresses  this  prompting  in  a  solemn  preface, 
which  reads : 

As  for  my  own  part,  I  think  I  have  just  grounds  to 
venture  this  small  narrative  into  the  American  world  as  an 
humble  acknowledgement  to  Almighty  God  for  his  won- 
derful preservation  of  us,  and  hoping  it  may  be  of  use  to 
others,  should  the  like  unhappy  circumstances  ever  at- 
tend them.  I  had  indeed  thoughts  of  perpetuating  the 
memory  of  our  deliverance  in  a  different  manner,  but 
my  innocent  intentions  met  with  an  unexpected  opposition 
that  induced  me  to  have  recourse  to  this  present  method; 
and  I  hastened  the  execution  in  1727,  whilst  there  were  liv- 
ing witnesses  in  New  England  to  attend  the  truth  of  our 
signal  escape  from  Boon  Island. 

And  now  I  again  recommend  it  to  the  serious  perusal 
of  all,  but  especially  seafaring  men,  who  of  all  others  are 
most  liable  to  sudden  dangers,  through  the  natural  incon- 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     311 

stancy  of  the  Elements  they  converse  with  in  pursuit  of 
their  lawful  employments ;  and  consequently  ought  to  lead 
the  most  considerate,  religious  lives  in  order  to  face  death, 
if  it  be  God's  Will,  in  the  most  dreadful  form,  with  a 
Christian  resolution.  For,  as  to  that  set  of  men  who 
affect  to  pass  for  Wits  and  Bravoes  by  giving  a  ludicrous 
turn  to  everything  grave  and  solemn;  and  assuming  an 
air  of  intrepidity,  by  horrid  oaths  and  imprecations,  be- 
fore the  too  near  approaches  of  danger,  I  have  always 
observed  them,  first  of  all  others,  to  sink  under  despair, 
upon  a  prospect  of  inevitable  death ;  even  so  as  shamefully 
to  desert  all  the  necessary  means  that  offered  for  a  pos- 
sibility of  their  deliverance. 

The  Nottingham  Galley,  a  small  vessel  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  tons,  sailed  from  London  on 
September  25,  1710,  touching  at  Ireland  to  take  on 
some  butter  and  cheese  besides  her  cargo  of  cordage 
and  general  merchandise,  which  was  consigned  to 
Boston.  She  carried  a  crew  of  fourteen  men  and 
mounted  ten  guns  as  a  proper  precaution  against 
pirates  and  privateers.  Against  the  westerly  winds 
of  autumn  the  ship  made  crawling  progress,  and  it 
was  almost  three  months  later  before  Captain 
Deane  made  a  landfall  on  the  snow-covered  coast 
of  New  England.  He  did  not  know  where  he  was 
and  thick  weather  shut  down  so  that  for  twelve  days 
longer  he  was  battering  about  and  trying  to  work  a 
safe  distance  offshore.  The  chronometer  was  then 
unknown,  the  "hog-yoke,"  or  early  quadrant,  had 


312     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

nothing  like  the  exactitude  of  the  sextant,  and  most 
charts  were  incorrect.  There  were,  of  course,  no 
lighthouses  on  the  dangerous  New  England  coast. 

Captain  Deane  groped  along  with  sounding  lead 
and  log-line  and  said  his  prayers,  no  doubt,  until 
the  Nottingham  Galley  struck  on  Boon  Island  in  a 
dark  night  and  almost  instantly  went  to  pieces. 
The  crew  got  ashore  after  a  bitter  struggle,  and 
"being  assembled  together,  they  with  joyful  hearts 
returned  their  most  humble  and  sincere  thanks  to 
Divine  Providence  for  their  miraculous  deliverance 
from  so  imminent  a  danger." 

They  were  within  sight  of  the  mainland,  as  day- 
light disclosed,  and  the  captain  identified  the  nearest 
shore  as  Cape  Neddick,  while  vessels  could  be  seen 
passing  in  and  out  of  Portsmouth  Harbor.  It  was 
Christmas  week,  and  the  little  island  was  blanketed 
in  snow.  The  only  shelter  from  the  freezing  winds 
was  a  tent  which  was  made  of  a  torn  sail,  and  there 
was  no  fire  to  warm  them.  "They  fought  to  procure 
this  blessing  by  a  variety  of  means,"  related  Captain 
Deane,  "such  as  flint,  steel,  and  gunpowder,  and 
afterwards  by  a  drill  of  very  swift  motion,  but  all 
the  materials  in  their  possession  naturally  suscept- 
ible of  fire  being,  on  this  occasion,  thoroughly  water- 
soaked,  after  eight  or  ten  days'  unsuccessful  labor 
they  gave  over  the  fruitless  attempt." 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     313 

The  only  food  washed  ashore  from  the  wreck  con- 
sisted of  three  cheeses  and  some  beef  bones,  which 
they  shared  without  quarreling,  and  in  fact,  the 
spirit  of  these  poor  mariners  was  singularly  unself- 
ish and  manly  throughout.  By  vote  it  was  agreed 
that  Captain  Deane  should  hold  the  same  authority 
as  he  exercised  on  board  ship.  They  felt  certain  of 
rescue,  because  they  were  within  sight  of  port,  and 
the  captain  encouraged  them 

with  hopes  of  being  discovered  by  fishing  shallops  or  other 
vessels  passing  that  way,  although  all  the  while  he  was 
conscious  to  himself  that  rarely  anything  of  this  kind 
happened  at  that  unseasonable  time  of  the  year ;  however, 
he  thought  it  good  policy  to  put  the  best  face  on  the  mat- 
ter and  take  this  advantage  of  their  ignorance  and  cre- 
dulity; since  he  already  too  plainly  observed  their  great 
dejection  and  frequent  relapses  into  an  utter  distrust  of 
Divine  Providence. 

A  boat  was  built  after  infinite  labor,  by  men  who 
had  nothing  whatever  to  eat,  and  the  surf  beat  it  to 
fragments  as  soon  as  it  was  launched.  In  this  hour 
of  inexpressible  disappointment  they  stood  and 
watched  three  small  sailing  vessels  pass  the  island  at 
a  distance  of  a  few  miles,  and  they  could  not  kindle  a 
smoke  to  make  a  signal.  As  a  last  hope,  a  raft  was 
tied  together  of  two  bits  of  spar  only  twelve  feet 
long,  with  a  deck  of  plank  four  feet  wide,  a  mere 


314     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

chip  of  a  raft  with  a  sail  made  of  two  canvas  ham- 
mocks. 

This  was  the  project  of  a  "Swede,  a  stout,  brave 
fellow  that  had  unhappily  lost  the  use  of  both  his 
feet  from  frost  since  he  came  upon  the  rock."  It 
was  his  idea  that  two  men  might  be  able  to  paddle 
and  sail  this  contrivance  to  the  mainland  and  so 
effect  a  deliverance.  At  the  first  endeavor  to  get 
the  raft  clear  of  the  breakers  it  upset  and  nearly 
drowned  the  Swede  and  another  sailor  who  had 
offered  to  go  with  him.  The  latter  was  dragged 
out  almost  dead,  but  the  Swede  swam  to  the 
rocks  and  was  for  righting  the  raft  and  setting  out 
again,  although  the  mast  and  sail  had  been  lost. 
The  incident  is  worth  describing  in  the  words  of 
Captain  Deane. 

The  master  then  desired  the  Swede  to  assist  in  getting 
the  raft  out  of  the  water  in  order  to  wait  a  more  favor- 
able opportunity ;  but  the  Swede,  persisting  in  his  resolu- 
tion although  unable  to  stand  upon  his  feet,  and  as  he  was 
kneeling  on  the  rock,  caught  hold  on  the  master's  hand 
and  with  much  vehemency  beseeching  him  to  accompany 
him,  said, 

"I  am  sure  I  must  die;  however,  I  have  great  hopes  of 
being  the  means  of  preserving  your  life,  and  the  rest  of 
the  peoples'.  If  you  will  not  go  with  me,  I  beg  your  as- 
sistance to  turn  the  raft  and  help  me  upon  it,  for  I  am 
resolutely  bent  to  venture,  even  though  by  myself  alone." 

The  master  used  farther  dissuasives,  representing  the 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     315 

impossibility  of  reaching  the  mainland  in  twice  the  time 
they  might  have  done  before  they  were  disarmed  of  their 
mast  and  sail,  but  the  Swede  remained  inflexible,  affirming, 
"I  had  rather  perish  in  the  sea  than  continue  one  day  more 
in  this  miserable  condition."  By  this  time  another  man, 
animated  by  his  example  and  offering  to  go  with  him,  the 
master  consented  and  gave  them  some  money  that  acci- 
dentally was  in  his  pocket,  fixed  them  on  the  raft,  and 
helped  them  to  launch  off  from  the  rock,  committing  them 
to  the  mercy  of  the  seas.  Their  last  words  at  parting 
were  very  moving  and  delivered  in  a  pathetic  accent, 
"Pray,  Sir,  oblige  all  the  people  to  join  in  prayers  for 
us  as  long  as  you  can  see  us." 

All  to  a  man  crept  out  of  the  tent  at  this  doleful  sep- 
aration and  performed  the  reo^iest  with  much  devotion. 
About  sunset  they  judged  the  raft  to  be  half  way  to  land 
and  hoped  they  might  gain  the  shore  by  two  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  in  the  night  the  wind  blew  very  hard,  and  two 
days  later  the  raft  was  found  on  the  shore  of  the  mainland, 
about  a  mile  distant  from  the  body  of  the  other  man, 
driven  likewise  on  shore  with  his  paddle  still  fast  to  his 
wrist,  but  the  bold  Swede  was  never  seen  more. 

The  ship's  carpenter  died  of  hunger  at  the  end  of 
a  fortnight,  during  which  rock-weed  and  mussels 
had  kept  the  breath  of  life  in  them.  Inevitably  men 
in  their  condition  were  bound  to  turn  to  thoughts  of 
preserving  their  own  existence  a  little  longer  by  eat- 
ing the  body  of  the  carpenter.  How  they  discussed 
it  and  with  what  results  is  told  by  the  unhappy  Cap- 
tain Deane. 


316     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  master  returning  to  his  tent  with  the  most  acute 
sense  of  the  various  miseries  they  were  involved  in,  was 
ready  to  expire  with  faintness  and  anguish;  and  placing 
himself  so  as  to  receive  some  refreshment  from  sleep,  he 
observed  an  unusual  air  of  intentness  in  the  countenances 
of  all  the  people;  when,  after  some  pause,  Mr.  Whit- 
worth,  a  young  gentleman,  his  mother's  darling  son,  del- 
icately educated,  amidst  so  great  an  affluence  as  to  de- 
spise common  food,  began  in  the  name  of  the  assembly  to 
court  the  master's  concurrence  in  converting  the  human 
carcass  into  the  matter  of  their  nourishment ;  and  was 
immediately  seconded  by  a  great  majority,  three  only  op- 
posing on  account  of  their  esteeming  it  a  heinous  sin. 

This  affair  had  been  thus  consulted  and  concluded  upon 
in  the  master's  absence,  and  the  present  method  concerted 
of  making  it  known  by  a  gentleman  reputed  to  be  much 
in  his  favor.  The  master  remained  in  his  former  posture, 
observing  an  invincible  silence,  while  they  were  urging 
their  desires  with  irresistible  vehemence;  for  nothing 
that  ever  befell  him  from  the  day  of  his  birth,  not  even 
the  dread  and  distress  of  his  soul  upon  quitting  the  wreck 
when  he  did  not  expect  to  live  a  minute,  was  so  amaz- 
ingly shocking  as  this  unexpected  proposal.  But  after 
a  short  interval,  he  maturely  weighed  all  circumstances 
and  pronounced  in  favor  of  the  majority,  arguing  the 
improbability  of  its  being  a  sin  to  eat  human  flesh  in  a 
case  of  such  necessity,  providing  they  were  in  no  ways  ac- 
cessory to  the  taking  away  of  life. 

The  body  of  the  carpenter  was  their  sustenance 
until  a  shallop,  sailing  out  of  Portsmouth,  discov- 
ered the  fragments  of  a  tent  among  the  rocks  and 
snow  of  Boon  Island  and  a  few  figures  of  men 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     317 

feebly  crawling  out  of  the  shelter.  The  crew  of  the 
Nottingham  Galley  were  carried  to  the  little  sea- 
port at  the  mouth  of  the  Piscataqua,  and  there  all  of 
them  recovered,  although  seriously  crippled  because 
of  frozen  hands  and  feet.  At  the  end  of  Captain 
Deane's  story  is  the  following  note : 

At  the  first  publication  of  this  narrative,  Mr.  Whit- 
worth  and  the  mate  were  then  living  in  England,  and  the 
master  survived  until  the  19th  of  August,  1761.  And  out 
of  sincere  regard  to  the  memory  of  Captain  Deane,  and 
that  such  an  instance  of  Divine  Providence  should  not  be 
buried  in  oblivion,  Mr.  Miles  Whitworth,  son  of  the  above 
Mr.  Whitworth,  now  republishes  this  narrative,  hoping 
(with  a  Divine  blessing)  that  it  may  prove  of  service  to 
reclaim  the  unthinking  part  of  seafaring  men  trading  in 
and  to  New  England. 

The  tale  of  the  Nottingham  Galley  suggests  other 
episodes  in  which  living  men  of  a  ship's  crew  were 
chosen  by  lot  to  be  sacrificed  as  food  for  the  others. 
As  dramatic  as  any  of  them  was  the  fate  of  the 
American  sloop  Peggy,,  which  became  waterlogged 
while  homeward  bound  to  New  York  from  the 
Azores.  Food  and  water  gone,  there  were  wine  and 
brandy  in  the  cargo,  unluckily,  and  the  sailors  got 
drunk  and  stayed  so  much  of  the  time.  On  Christ- 
mas day  a  sail  was  sighted,  and  the  ship  bore  down 
to  speak  the  drifting  hulk  of  the  Peggy.  For  some 
reason  this  other  vessel,  after  promising  to  send 


318     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

bread  and  beef  aboard  or  to  take  the  people  off  if 
they  so  preferred,  filled  away  and  resumed  her 
course.  Captain  Harrison  of  the  Peggy  had  taken 
to  his  bed  with  rheumatism,  but  he  crawled  on  deck 
to  watch  the  faithless  ship  abandon  him  while  his 
crew  cursed  like  madmen  and  shouted  their  appeals 
for  help. 

For  sixteen  days  the  people  of  the  Peggy  lived  on 
candles,  whale-oil,  and  barnacles  scraped  from  the 
ship's  side.  Then  the  crew,  led  by  the  mate,  in- 
vaded Captain  Harrison's  cabin  and  told  him  they 
could  hold  out  no  longer.  They  had  eaten  the 
leather  packing  of  the  pump,  they  had  chewed  the 
leather  buttons  off  their  jackets,  and  liquor  would 
not  keep  them  alive.  It  was  now  their  intention  to 
cast  lots  for  a  victim,  and  the  captain  was  asked  to 
supervise  the  business.  He  refused  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it,  which  excited  a  hubbub  of  anger, 
and  the  mate  announced  that  nobody  would  be  ex- 
empted. The  captain  was  to  stand  his  chance  with 
the  rest.  They  tramped  out  of  the  cabin,  remained 
a  little  while  in  the  steerage,  and  returned  to  say 
that  the  lots  had  been  drawn,  and  a  negro  slave  who 
was  in  the  cargo  had  received  the  fatal  number. 

Captain  Harrison,  bed-ridden  as  he  was,  had  the 
courage  to  tell  the  men  that  he  suspected  them  of 
dealing  unfairly  with  the  poor  negro,  and  that  he 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     319 

had  not  been  allowed  a  chance  for  his  life.  While 
they  were  wrangling,  the  slave  came  running  into 
the  cabin  to  beg  the  captain's  protection;  but  he  was 
dragged  out  and  shot  and  turned  over  to  the  cook 
and  the  big  copper  pots  in  the  galley.  For  nine 
days  this  sufficed  to  keep  the  crew  alive,  while  Cap- 
tain Harrison  steadfastly  refused  to  touch  the  food 
they  offered  him.  Then  the  mate  and  the  men 
trooped  into  the  cabin  again  and  roughly  demanded 
that  the  skipper  take  charge  of  the  lottery. 

This  time  he  consented  in  order  to  be  certain  of 
fair  play.  Painfully  raising  himself  upon  his 
elbow,  he  tore  up  strips  of  paper  and  wrote  numbers 
on  them.  In  grim  silence  the  six  men  who  were 
left  alive  closed  their  fingers  upon  the  slips  of  paper, 
and  a  seaman  named  David  Flat  groaned  as  he 
discovered  that  his  was  the  ticket  of  death.  Other- 
wise there  was  no  noise  in  the  cabin. 

The  shock  which  this  produced  was  so  great  that  the 
whole  crew  remained  motionless  for  a  considerable  time; 
and  so  they  might  have  continued  much  longer  had  not 
the  victim,  who  appeared  perfectly  resigned  to  his  fate, 
expressed  himself  in  these  words: 

"Dear  friends  and  messmates,  all  I  have  to  beg  of  you 
is  to  dispatch  me  as  soon  as  you  did  the  negro,  and  to 
put  me  to  as  little  torture  as  possible.'' 

David  Flat  then  turned  to  another  seaman,  James 
Doud,  who  had  put  the  bullet  into  the  slave  and  said : 

"It  is  my  wish  that  you  should  shoot  me." 


320     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Doud  was  much  affected,  but  consented  to  attend 
to  the  obsequies  of  unfortunate  David  Flat,  who  was 
the  most  popular  man  in  the  forecastle.  The  victim 
then  requested  a  brief  respite  in  which  he  might  pre- 
pare his  soul  to  meet  its  Maker.  This  was  very 
readily  granted,  and  meanwhile  the  cook  kindled  a 
fire  and  got  the  water  hot.  Friendship  was 
stronger  than  hunger,  however,  and  there  was  so 
much  reluctance  to  execute  the  sentence  that  it 
was  determined  to  grant  David  Flat  a  respite  until 
eleven  o'clock  of  the  following  morning, 

trusting  that  Divine  Goodness  would  in  the  interval  open 
some  other  source  of  relief.  At  the  same  time  they  so- 
licited the  captain  to  read  prayers,  a  task  which,  collect- 
ing the  utmost  effort  of  his  strength,  he  was  just  able  to 
perform. 

It  was  a  scene  to  linger  in  one's  memory,  the 
waterlogged  sloop  with  her  sails  streaming  in  useless 
ribbons  from  a  broken  mast,  the  little  cabin  with  the 
skipper  almost  dead  in  his  bunk,  and  the  group  of 
starved  and  wistful  seamen  who  bowed  their  heads 
while  he  brokenly  whispered  the  words  of  the 
prayer-book.  As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  they  crept 
out  to  rejoin  David  Flat,  who  had  preferred  to  be 
absent  from  his  own  funeral  service.  Through  the 
companionway  the  captain  overheard  them  talking 
to  him 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     821 

with  great  earnestness  and  affection,  and  expressing  their 
hope  that  God  would  interpose  for  his  preservation. 
They  assured  him  also  that  although  they  had  never  yet 
been  able  to  catch  a  single  fish,  they  would  again  put  out 
their  hooks  and  try  whether  in  that  manner  any  relief 
could  be  obtained. 

There  was  little  comfort  for  David  Flat  in  this 
commiseration,  and  the  situation  benumbed  his  mind 
so  that  he  was  in  a  stupor,  which  changed  to  raving 
madness  during  the  night.  At  eight  o'clock  next 
morning  Captain  Harrison  was  thinking  of  this 
faithful  seaman  of  his  who  had  only  three  hours 
more  to  live,  when  two  of  the  others  came  into  the 
cabin  and  took  hold  of  his  hands.  Their  agitation 
was  apparent,  but  they  seemed  unable  to  speak  and 
explain  themselves,  and  he  surmised  that  they  had 
concluded  to  put  him  to  death  instead  of  David 
Flat.  He  therefore  groped  for  his  pistol,  but  the 
sailors  snatched  it  away,  and  managed  to  tell  him 
that  a  sail  had  been  sighted,  a  large  vessel  to  leeward 
which  had  altered  her  course  and  was  beating  up  to 
them  as  fast  as  possible. 

The  men  on  deck  had  been  similarly  affected, 
losing  all  power  of  speech  for  the  moment ;  but  pres- 
ently they  hurried  into  the  cabin,  with  strength  re- 
newed, to  shout  at  the  captain  that  a  ship  was  com- 
ing to  save  them.  They  tried  to  make  poor  David 
Flat  comprehend  the  tremendous  fact,  but  he  was 


322     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

babbling  of  other  things,  and  his  wits  were  still  all 
astray.  During  the  business  of  the  death-sentence, 
which  had  been  conducted  with  such  extraordinary 
dignity,  the  men  had  remained  sober,  keeping  clear 
of  the  brandy-keg,  but  now  they  proposed  to  cele- 
brate. Captain  Harrison  succeeded  in  dissuading 
all  excepting  the  mate,  who  filled  a  can  and  sat  down 
by  himself  to  liquor  up.  And  so  they  were  making 
a  decent  finish  of  it,  although  their  nerves  were  tor- 
tured beyond  endurance,  when  the  breeze  died  out, 
and  the  other  ship  lay  becalmed  two  or  three  miles 
away.  They  remembered  the  dreadful  disappoint- 
ment of  Christmas  day,  when  another  ship  had 
deserted  them  after  steering  close  enough  to  hail 
the  sloop. 

This  blessed  stranger,  however,  lowered  a  boat, 
and  the  oars  flashed  on  the  shining  sea  until  the 
rescuers  were  alongside  the  Peggy. 

As  the  captain  was  incapable  of  moving,  they  lifted  him 
out  of  the  cabin  and,  lowering  him  into  the  boat  with 
ropes,  he  was  followed  by  his  people,  among  whom  was 
David  Flat,  still  raving.  Just  when  putting  off,  it  was 
discovered  that  the  mate  was  missing.  He  was  immedi- 
ately summoned  and,  after  his  can  of  liquor,  had  no  more 
than  ability  to  crawl  to  the  gunwale,  having  forgot  every- 
thing that  had  happened.  The  unfortunate  drunken 
wretch  having  been  got  down,  the  saviors  rowed  away  to 
their  own  ship,  which  they  reached  in  about  an  hour. 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     323 

This  vessel  was  the  Susannah  of  London,  commanded  by 
Captain  Thomas  Evers,  who  was  engaged  in  the  Virginia 
trade  and  was  now  returning  from  Virginia  to  London. 
He  received  the  Peggy's  people  with  all  possible  tender- 
ness and  humanity.  The  Susannah  proceeded  on  her  voy- 
age, and  though  in  a  very  shattered  condition  and  so 
much  reduced  in  provisions  that  it  was  necessary  to  put 
her  people  on  short  allowance,  she  reached  England  early 
in  March.  The  mate,  as  also  James  Doud  who  shot  the 
negro,  and  one  James  Warren,  a  seaman,  died  during  the 
passage.  Lemuel  Ashley,  Samuel  Wentworth,  and  David 
Flat,  who  was  to  have  been  shot  for  food,  all  survived. 
Flat  continued  raving  mad  during  the  voyage,  but  whether 
he  afterwards  recovered  is  not  ascertained.  When  Cap- 
tain Harrison  came  on  shore,  he  made  an  oath  to  the 
truth  of  the  preceding  melancholy  facts  in  order  that  the 
interests  of  his  insurers  might  be  preserved. 

In  the  case  of  the  English  ship  Barrett,  which 
was  wrecked  in  mid- Atlantic  in  January,  1821,  the 
method  of  choosing  the  man  who  should  die  to  serve 
as  food  was  sufficiently  novel  and  ingenious  to  merit 
attention.  She  was  a  much  larger  vessel  than  the 
Peggy,  with  a  crew  of  sixteen,  and  had  sailed  from 
St.  John,  New  Brunswick,  in  command  of  Captain 
Faragar,  with  a  cargo  of  timber  for  Liverpool. 
Heavy  gales  blew  her  canvas  away  and  strained  her 
hull  until  it  filled  with  water.  Rations  were  re- 
duced to  two  ounces  of  bread  and  a  pint  of  water  a 
day  until  this  was  almost  gone.  Then  a  sail  was 
descried,  and  a  brig  bowled  down  to  pass  within  hail, 


324     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  master  promising  to  send  aboard  what  provisions 
he  could  spare.  Then  the  wind  chopped  around  to 
the  westward,  and,  precisely  as  had  happened  to  the 
sloop  Peggy,  the  brig  hauled  her  braces,  sheeted  her 
topsails  home,  and  went  driving  away  on  her  course. 
Mr.  MacCloud,  the  mate  of  the  Barrett,  was  a 
hardy  young  Scot  with  the  endurance  of  iron  and 
the  soul  of  a  hero.  Day  after  day  the  ship  wal- 
lowed in  the  wicked  winter  weather  of  the  Western 
Ocean,  and  only  the  timber  in  the  flooded  hold  kept 
her  afloat.  Cold  and  hunger  laid  the  crew  low  until 
only  the  mate  and  three  men  were  able  to  stand  a 
watch  on  deck;  but  he  kept  a  little  canvas  on  her 
and  tended  the  tiller  and  somehow  jammed  her 
along  until  they  had  sailed  six  hundred  miles  to- 
ward the  Irish  coast. 

Every  eatable  was  consumed:  candles,  oil — all  were 
gone,  and  they  passed  the  long,  dreary,  stormy  nights  of 
sixteen  and  seventeen  hours  in  utter  darkness,  huddled  to- 
gether in  the  steerage,  imploring  the  Almighty  to  help 
them,  yet  feeling  reckless  of  existence.  Such  was  their 
condition  about  the  middle  of  January,  and  no  one  but 
the  mate  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  the  vesseL 

Captain  Faragar  succumbed  to  the  strain,  and 
died  with  a  farewell  message  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. The  time  came  at  length  when  one  of  the 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     825 

sailors,  more  brutalized  than  the  rest,  broke  out  with 
the  words: 

"Here  we  are,  sixteen  of  us,  perishing  for  food,  and 
what  prospect  is  there  before  us  ?  Would  n't  it  be  bet- 
ter--" 

He  hesitated,  while  his  companions  held  their  breath 
and  comprehended  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"Damn  all  ceremony  P*  was  the  conclusion  which  they 
expected  and  yet  dreaded  to  hear.  "One  man  must  die 
that  the  rest  may  live,  and  that 's  the  bloody  truth  of  it.'* 

They  agreed  with  him,  nodding  their  heads  and 
refusing  to  look  at  one  another.  Then  followed  a 
long  dispute  over  the  fairest  manner  of  letting 
chance  decide  the  choice.  It  was  obvious  that 
every  man  had  a  natural  anxiety  to  feel  assured  of 
no  loaded  dice  or  marked  cards  in  this  momentous 
game.  There  were  objections  to  the  traditional  lot- 
tery of  high  and  low  numbers,  and  finally  it  was  de- 
cided that  sixteen  pieces  of  rope-yarn  should  be  cut 
by  the  mate.  Fourteen  of  these  were  to  be  of  pre- 
cisely the  same  length,  one  a  little  shorter,  and  an- 
other shorter  still.  The  sixteen  pieces  of  rope- 
yarn  were  to  be  shoved  through  a  crack  in  the  bulk- 
head of  the  steward's  storeroom,  the  ends  all  even 
and  just  long  enough  for  a  man  to  take  one  in  his 
fingers  and  pull  it  through  the  crack.  The  one  who 


326     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

pulled  out  the  strand  that  was  a  little  shorter  was  to 
be  dished  up  for  his  messmates,  and  the  man  who 
drew  the  strand  that  was  shorter  still  had  the  un- 
pleasant duty  of  acting  as  butcher. 

The  mate  cut  the  rope-yarn,  as  requested,  and 
arranged  the  sixteen  lengths  all  in  a  row  in  the 
crack  of  the  bulkhead.  The  men  stood  waiting  the 
word,  very  reluctant  to  pluck  out  the  ends  of  tarry 
cord,  until  Mr.  MacCloud  exclaimed : 

"My  lads,  let  us  put  it  off  until  to-morrow.  We 
have  endured  thus  far,  and  a  few  hours  longer  can- 
not make  much  difference.  Who  knows  what 
Providence  may  have  in  store  for  us?" 

S'ome  consented,  while  others  were  for  going 
through  with  it  at  once.  To-morrow  came,  and  no 
help  was  in  sight.  They  shambled  into  the  stew- 
ard's storeroom  and  pulled  the  rope-yarns  through 
the  crack.  Presently  there  was  one  man  less  on  the 
muster-roll  of  the  Barrett.  Two  or  three  days  later 
the  ceremony  was  repeated.  Before  it  became  nec- 
essary to  doom  a  third  man,  the  mate  came  below,  a 
spy-glass  in  his  hand,  and  he  was  trembling  so  vi- 
olently that  he  clutched  the  table  for  support.  "A 
sail,"  he  stammered,  and  they  followed  him  on  deck, 
where  the  winter  day  was  dying  into  dusk.  In  des- 
perate need  of  making  some  sort  of  signal,  Mr. 
MacCloud  emptied  a  powder-flask  upon  the  wind- 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     327 

lass,  fired  a  pistol  into  it,  and  a  thick  column  of 
smoke  billowed  skyward. 

The  other  ship  observed  it,  and  hoisted  an  ensign. 
Twelve  of  the  Barrett's  company  were  alive,  and 
they  were  safely  transferred  to  the  Ann  of  New 
York,  bound  to  Liverpool.  The  waterlogged  Bar- 
rett drifted  on  her  aimless  course,  a  derelict  haunted 
by  fearful  memories,  and  from  a  crack  in  the  bulk- 
head of  the  steward's  storeroom  still  hung  the  ends 
of  a  row  of  rope-yarns  which  had  been  made  ready 
for  the  next  game  of  chance. 

In  1799  six  soldiers  of  the  British  artillery  gar- 
rison at  St.  Helena  concocted  a  plot  to  desert  and 
stow  themselves  away  in  an  American  ship,  the 
Columbia,  which  was  then  in  harbor.  Their  escape 
was  discovered  soon  after  the  Yankee  crew  had 
smuggled  them  on  board,  and  they  could  hear  the 
alarm  sounded  and  could  see  the  lanterns  glimmer 
along  the  sea-wall.  Afraid  that  the  Columbia 
would  be  searched,  the  fugitive  red-coats  stole  a 
whale-boat  from  another  ship,  and  the  sympathetic 
American  skipper  gave  them  a  bag  of  bread,  a  keg 
of  water,  a  compass,  and  a  quadrant.  It  was  rather 
to  be  expected  that  a  New  England  mariner  who 
could  remember  Bunker  Hill  and  Saratoga  would 
lend  a  hand  to  any  enterprise  which  annoyed  the 
British  army  and  diminished  its  fighting  strength. 


328     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  six  deserters  pulled  out  to  sea  in  the  hope  of 
finding  the  island  of  Ascension,  which  lay  eight  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  northwest  of  St.  Helena.  Cor- 
poral Parr  had  been  a  seaman,  and  he  thought  he 
knew  how  to  shoot  the  sun  and  figure  out  his  posi- 
tion; but  after  a  week  of  fine  weather  it  was  his  un- 
easy conviction  that  they  must  have  run  past  Ascen- 
sion. With  a  sail  made  of  their  shirts  stitched  to- 
gether, they  bore  away  for  the  coast  of  South 
America  on  the  chance  of  finding  Rio  Janeiro. 
Provisions  were  so  short  that  they  limited  them- 
selves to  one  ounce  of  bread  and  two  mouthfuls  of 
water  a  day. 

After  a  fortnight  at  sea  they  were  chewing  their 
leather  shoes,  and  Private  John  Brown,  in  a  state- 
ment prepared  after  the  rescue,  explained  how  they 
selected  one  of  their  number  to  be  used  as  food  for 
the  others. 

Parr,  Brighouse,  Conway,  and  myself  proposed  to  scut- 
tle the  boat  and  let  her  go  down,  to  put  us  out  of  our 
misery,  but  the  other  two  objected,  observing  that  God, 
who  had  made  man,  always  found  him  something  to  eat. 
On  the  twenty-second  day  M'Kinnon  proposed  that  it 
would  be  better  to  cast  lots  for  one  of  us  to  die  in  order 
to  save  the  rest,  to  which  we  consented,  William  Parr, 
being  seized  two  days  before  with  the  spotted  fever,  was 
excluded.  He  wrote  the  numbers  and  put  them  into  a  hat, 
and  we  drew  them  out  blindfolded  and  put  them  in  our 
pockets. 


THE  NOTTINGHAM  GALLEY     829 

Parr  then  asked  whose  lot  it  was  to  die,  none  of  us 
knowing  what  number  we  had  in  our  pocket,  and  each 
praying  to  God  that  it  might  be  his  lot.  It  was  agreed 
that  Number  5  should  die,  and  the  lots  being  unfolded, 
M'Kinnon's  was  number  5.  We  had  concluded  that  he,  on 
whom  the  lot  fell,  should  bleed  himself  to  death,  for  which 
purpose  we  had  provided  ourselves  with  sharpened  nails 
which  were  got  from  the  boat.  With  one  of  these  M'Kin- 
non  cut  himself  in  three  places,  in  his  foot,  hand,  and  wrist 
and  praying  God  to  forgive  his  sins  he  died  in  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour. 

Three  of  the  deserters  lived  to  reach  the  South 
American  coast,  and  were  taken  to  Rio  in  a  Por- 
tuguese ship.  One  might  think  that  Private  John 
Brown  had  suffered  enough  for  his  crime  of  run- 
ning away  from  the  Royal  Artillery,  but  Captain 
Elphinstone  of  H.  JVL  S.  Diamond  had  him  put  in 
irons  and  sent  to  Cape  Town.  There  he  was 
pressed  into  the  navy,  but  his  conscience  gave  him 
no  rest,  and  after  receiving  his  discharge  he  made 
his  way  to  St.  Helena  and  gave  himself  up.  To  the 
officers  who  conducted  his  court  martial  he  ex- 
plained : 

"I  was  determined  to  surrender  myself  at  the  first 
opportunity  in  order  to.  relate  my  sufferings  to  the 
men  of  this  garrison  and  to  deter  others  from  at- 
tempting so  mad  a  scheme." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   STORM-SWEPT   FLEET   OF  ADMIRAL   GRAVES 

TO  observe  what  might  be  called  shipwreck  on 
a  grand  scale,  it  is  necessary  to  hark  back  to 
the  days  of  fleets  and  convoys  under  sail,  when  a 
hundred  or  two  hundred  merchant  vessels  and  men- 
of-war  made  a  long  voyage  together.  If  such  an 
argosy  chanced  to  be  caught  in  a  hurricane,  the 
tragedy  was  apt  to  be  tremendous,  surpassing  any- 
thing of  the  kind  in  the  hazards  of  modern  seafar- 
ing. In  April,  1782,  Admiral  George  Rodney,  in 
a  great  sea-battle  whose  issue  was  vital  to  the  Brit- 
ish Empire,  whipped  the  French  fleet  of  De  Grasse 
off  the  island  of  Dominica,  in  the  West  Indies.  It 
was  a  victory  which  enabled  Rodney  to  write, 
"Within  two  little  years,  I  have  taken  two  Spanish, 
one  French,  and  one  Dutch  admirals."  The 
French  ships  which  struck  their  flags  to  him  in- 
cluded the  huge  Ville  de  Paris  of  110  guns,  which 
had  flown  De  Grasse's  pennant;  the  Glorieuoa  and 
Hector  of  seventy-four  guns  each;  the  Ardent, 
Colon,  and  Jason  of  sixty-four  guns  each. 

330 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  331 

As  soon  as  these  prizes  could  be  repaired,  they 
were  ordered  to  sail  for  England,  with  several  of  the 
British  ships  of  the  line  as  an  escort,  and  with  them 
went  more  than  a  hundred  merchantmen  from  the 
West  Indies.  In  command  was  Admiral  Graves 
of  Rodney's  fleet,  a  sailor  who  was  to  prove  himself 
as  noble  in  misfortune  as  he  ha  been  illustrious  in 
action.  His  ships  were  in  no  condition  to  encounter 
heavy  weather,  for  the  battle  had  pounded  and  shat- 
tered both  antagonists,  and  refitting  had  to  be  done 
in  makeshift  fashion  for  lack  of  dock-yards  and  ma- 
terial. British  bluejackets  and  French  prisoners 
were  blithely  willing,  however,  to  run  the  risk  of 
keeping  afloat  so  long  as  they  were  homeward 
bound.  The  Ardent  and  the  Jason  came  so  near 
to  sinking,  even  in  smooth  seas,  that  they  had  to  be 
ordered  back  to  Jamaica,  but  the  rest  of  the  fleet 
moved  on  until  a  few  of  the  merchant  ships  parted 
company  to  steer  for  New  York,  leaving  ninety- 
three  sail  in  all  to  cross  the  Atlantic. 

The  season  was  September,  and  strong  gales  blew 
from  the  eastward,  which  made  it  weary  work 
thrashing  into  the  head  seas.  Two  more  of  the 
crippled  French  men-of-war  signaled  that  they  were 
in  distress,  and  the  admiral  told  them  to  bear  away 
for  Halifax.  At  length  the  wind  shifted  suddenly 
to  the  northward  and  increased  to  a  roaring  storm. 


332     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Foul  weather  had  been  expected,  and  from  his  flag- 
ship, the  Ramillies,  Admiral  Graves  warned  the 
scattered  fleet  to  close  in  and  snug  down.  They 
came  straggling  in  from  the  cloudy  horizon,  upper 
sails  furled,  decks  streaming,  until  at  sunset  the 
anxious  flock  was  within  sight  of  the  shepherd,  and 
the  fluttering  flags  passed  the  word  to  make  ready 
for  the  worst. 

The  Ramillies,  a  majestic  seventy- four-gun  ship, 
was  almost  overwhelmed  before  daylight,  main- 
mast gone  by  the  board,  all  her  upper  spars  splin- 
tered, rudder  torn  away,  and  the  seas  washing  clean 
over  her.  The  admiral  took  it  with  unruffled  cour- 
age, although  he  was  flooded  out  of  his  cabin,  and 
arrived  on  deck  with  one  leg  in  his  breeches  and  his 
boots  in  his  hand.  For  all  he  knew,  the  ship  was 
about  to  go  to  the  bottom. 

but  he  ordered  two  of  the  lieutenants  to  examine  into  the 
state  of  the  affairs  below,  and  to  keep  a  sufficient  number 
of  people  at  the  pumps,  while  he  himself  and  the  captain 
kept  the  deck  to  encourage  the  men  to  clear  away  the 
wreckage  which,  by  beating  against  the  sides  of  the  ship, 
had  stripped  off  the  copper  sheathing  and  exposed  the 
seams  so  much  to  the  sea  that  the  decayed  oakum  washed 
out  and  the  whole  frame  became  at  once  exceedingly  por- 
ous and  leaky. 

The  situation  of  the  Ramillies  seemed  bad 
enough,  but  dawn  disclosed  other  ships  which  were 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  333 

much  worse  off.  Close  to  leeward  was  a  large  ves- 
sel, the  Dutton,  which  had  been  a  famous  East  In- 
diaman.  She  was  lying  flat  upon  her  side,  while 
the  crew  struggled  to  cut  away  the  masts.  Pres- 
ently the  naval  lieutenant  in  command  was  seen  to 
jump  into  the  sea,  which  instantly  obliterated  him. 
A  few  of  the  crew  slid  one  of  the  boats  off  the  deck, 
and  were  whirled  away  in  the  foam  and  spray  which 
soon  engulfed  them.  Presently  the  ship  dived  un- 
der and  was  seen  no  more,  and  the  last  glimpse,  as 
she  miserably  foundered,  was  the  ensign  hoisted 
union  down,  which  gleamed  like  a  bit  of  flame.  Of 
the  ninety-odd  ships  which  had  been  seen  in  the  con- 
voy only  a  dozen  hours  earlier,  no  more  than  twenty 
could  be  counted.  Some  had  been  whirled  away 
like  chips  before  the  storm,  while  others  had  gone 
down  during  the  night  and  left  no  trace. 

Hull  down  was  descried  the  Canada;  the  Centaur 
reeled  far  to  windward ;  and  the  Glorieux  was  a  dis- 
tant hulk,  all  three  of  them  dismasted  and  appar- 
ently sinking.  Of  these  stout  British  men-of-war 
only  the  Canada  survived,  and  brought  her  people 
safely  through.  The  Ville  de  Paris  was  still  afloat 
and  loomed  lofty  and  almost  uninjured,  but  a  few 
hours  later  she  filled  and  sank,  carrying  eight  hun- 
dred men  to  the  bottom  with  her.  Of  the  merchant- 
men, not  one  within  sight  of  the  Ramillies  had  all 


334     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

her  masts  standing.  They  were  almost  helpless 
survivors,  still  battling  for  very  existence. 

Admiral  Graves  had  no  intention  of  losing  his 
flag-ship  and  his  life  without  fighting  in  the  last 
ditch.  Long  lines  of  sailors  passed  buckets  to  assist 
the  laboring  pumps,  and  storm-sails  were  rigged 
upon  the  jagged  stumps  of  the  masts.  The  sturdy 
old  Ramillies,  with  six  feet  of  water  in  the  hold,  was 
somehow  brought  around  before  the  wind,  and  ran 
as  fast  as  the  merchant  vessels  that  fled  on  each  side 
of  her.  After  spending  all  day  in  pumping  and 
baling  until  they  were  ready  to  drop  in  their  tracks, 
the  officers,  through  the  captain  as  spokesman,  sug- 
gested to  the  admiral  that  -some  of  the  guns  be 
thrown  overboard  in  order  to  lighten  the  ship.  To 
this  he  vigorously  objected  on  the  ground  that  a 
man-of-war  was  a  sorry  jest  without  her  battery, 
but  they  argued  that  a  man-of-war  in  Davy  Jones' 
locker  was  of  no  use  at  all,  wherefore  the  admiral 
consented  to  heaving  over  the  lighter  guns  and  some 
of  the  shot. 

After  another  night  of  distress  and  increasing 
peril,  the  officers  raised  the  question  again,  and 

the  admiral  was  prevailed  upon,  by  the  renewed  and 
pressing  remonstrances,  to  let  six  of  the  forward-most 
and  four  of  the  aftermost  guns  of  the  main  deck  be  thrown 
overboard,  together  with  the  remainder  of  those  on  the 
quarterdeck;  and  the  ship  still  continuing  to  open  very 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  335 

much,  he  ordered  tarred  canvas  and  hides  to  be  nailed 
fore  and  aft  from  under  the  sills  of  the  ports  on  the  main 
deck  under  the  fifth  plank  above,  or  within  the  water- 
ways, and  the  crew,  without  orders  did  the  same  on  the 
lower  deck. 

The  ship  was  sinking  in  spite  of  these  endeavors, 
and  the  admiral  now  let  them  throw  all  the  guns 
over,  which  grieved  him  very  much,  "and  there  be- 
ing eight  feet  of  water  in  the  magazine,  eveiy  gen- 
tleman was  compelled  to  take  his  turn  at  the  whips 
or  in  handling  the  buckets." 

These  six  hundred  British  seamen  and  officers 
were  making  a  very  gallant  effort  of  it,  and  infus- 
ing them  with  his  ardent  spirit  was  the  cheery,  re- 
sourceful Admiral  Graves,  whose  chief  virtue  was 
never  to  know  when  he  was  whipped.  Under  his 
direction  the  ship  was  now  frapped,  and  if  you 
would  know  how  ancient  was  this  method  of  trying 
to  save  a  ship  in  the  last  extremity,  please  turn  to 
St.  Paul's  story  of  his  own  shipwreck  and  read  as 
follows : 

And  when  the  ship  was  caught  and  could  not  bear  up 
into  the  wind,  we  let  her  drive.  And  running  under  a  cer- 
tain island  which  is  called  Clauda,  we  had  pnuch  work  to 
come  by  the  boat ; 

Which  when  they  had  taken  up,  they  used  helps,  under- 
girdling  the  ship ;  and  fearing  lest  they  should  fall  into  the 
quicksands,  strake  sail  and  so  were  driven. 


336     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  souls  of  the  jolly,  jolly  mariners  in  Kipling's 
"Last  Chantey,"  plucking  at  their  harps  and  they 
plucked  unhandily,  listened  with  professional  ap- 
proval when  the  stout  Apostle  Paul  lifted  his  voice 
in  turn  and  sang  to  them: 

Once  we  frapped  a  ship,  and  she  Labored  woundily, 

There  were  fourteen  score  of  these, 
And  they  blessed  Thee  on  their  knees, 

When  they  learned  Thy  Grace  and  Glory  under 
Malta  by  the  sea ! 

And  so  the  Ramillies  was  frapped,  or  under- 
girdled  by  passing  hempen  hawsers  under  her  keel 
and  around  the  straining  hull  to  hold  her  timbers  to- 
gether before  she  literally  fell  apart.  It  was  a  fine 
feat  of  seamanship,  but  unavailing.  The  admiral 
had  nothing  more  to  say  about  the  crime  of  tossing 
overboard  his  Majesty's  valuable  guns,  munitions, 
and  stores,  and  the  crew  fairly  gutted  the  ship  of 
everything  weighty,  including  both  bower  anchors. 
As  the  day  wore  on  toward  nightfall,  about  twenty 
other  ships  were  still  visible,  and  the  officers  urged 
the  admiral  to  shift  his  pennant  to  one  of  them  and 
so  save  himself;  but 

this  he  positively  refused  to  do,  deeming  it,  as  he  declared, 
unpardonable  of  a  commander-in-chief  to  desert  his  gar- 
rison in  distress ;  that  his  living  a  few  years  longer  was  of 
very  little  consequence,  but  that,  by  leaving  his  ship  at 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  337 

such  a  time,  he  should  discourage  and  slacken  the  exer- 
tions of  the  people  by  setting  them  a  very  bad  example. 

When  evening  Came,  the  spirits  of  the  people  began  to 
fail,  and  they  openly  expressed  the  utmost  despair,  to- 
gether with  the  most  earnest  desire  of  quitting  the  ship 
lest  they  should  founder  in  her.  The  admiral  hereupon 
advanced  and  told  them  that  he  and  their  officers  had  an 
equal  regard  for  their  own  lives,  that  the  officers  had  no 
intention  of  deserting  either  them  or  the  ship,  that,  for 
his  part,  he  was  determined  to  try  one  more  night  in 
her;  he  therefore  hoped  and  intreated  they  would  do 
so  too,  for  there  was  still  room  to  imagine  that  one 
fair  day,  with  a  moderate  sea,  might  enable  them  by 
united  exertion  to  clear  and  secure  the  well  against  the 
incroaching  ballast  which  washed  into  it;  that  if  this 
could  be  done  they  might  be  able  to  restore  the  chains  to 
the  pumps  and  use  them;  and  that  then  hands  enough 
might  be  spared  to  raise  jury-masts  with  which  they  might 
carry  the  ship  to  Ireland;  that  her  appearance  alone, 
while  she  could  swim,  would  be  sufficient  to  protect  the 
remaining  part  of  her  convoy;  above  all,  that  as  every- 
thing that  could  be  thought  of  had  now  been  done  for  her 
relief,  it  would  be  but  reasonable  to  wait  the  effect, 

Thia  temperate  speech  had  the  desired  result.  The 
firmness  and  confidence  with  which  he  spoke,  and  their  reli- 
ance on  his  seamanship  and  judgment,  as  well  as  his  con- 
stant presence  and  attention  to  every  accident,  had  a 
wonderful  effect  upon  them.  Since  the  first  disaster,  the 
admiral  had,  in  fact,  scarcely  ever  quitted  the  deck.  This 
they  had  all  observed,  together  with  his  diligence  in  per- 
sonally inspecting  every  circumstance  of  distress. 

This  simple  picture  of  him  portrays  a  fine  figure 


338     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

of  a  man,  of  the  sort  who  have  created  and  fostered 
the  spirit  and  traditions  both  of  the  British  and  the 
American  naval  services.  In  a  sinking  ship  which 
had  lost  all  her  guns,  he  was  still  mindful  of  his  duty 
of  guarding  the  merchant  convoy,  or  what  was  left 
of  it,  against  any  roving  French  or  Spanish  war  ves- 
sels or  privateers,  and  every  fiber  of  him  rebelled 
against  deserting  his  ship  as  long  as  her  flag  flew 
above  water.  He  was  a  brother  of  the  sea  to  Ad- 
miral Duncan  who,  as  Stevenson  describes  it, 

lying  off  the  Texel  with  his  own  flagship,  the  Venerable, 
heard  that  the  whole  Dutch  fleet  was  putting  to  sea.  He 
told  Captain  Hiotham  to  anchor  alongside  of  him  in  the 
narrowest  part  of  the  channel  and  fight  his  vessel  until 
she  sank.  "I  have  taken  the  o^epth  of  the  water,"  added 
he,  "and  when  the  Venerable  goes  down,  my  flag  will  still 
fly."  And  you  observe  this  is  no  naked  Viking  in  a  pre- 
historic period ;  but  a  Scotch  member  of  Parliament,  with 
a  smattering  of  the  classics,  a  telescope,  a  cocked  hat  of 
great  size,  and  flannel  underclothing. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  next  night 
the  pumps  of  the  Ramitties  were  found  to  be  hope- 
lessly out  of  commission,  the  water  was  rushing  into 
the  gaping  wounds  made  by  the  sea,  and  it  seemed 
as  though  the  timbers  were  pulling  asunder  from 
stern  to  bow.  Sadly  the  admiral  admitted  that  the 
game  was  lost,  and  he  told  his  captain  to  abandon 
ship  at  daybreak,  but  there  was  to  be  no  wild  scram- 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  339 

ble  for  the  boats.  The  crew  was  to  be  informed 
that  the  sick  and  disabled  were  to  be  removed,  and 
that  all  the  merchant  vessels  would  be  ordered  to 
send  boats  for  this  purpose.  Confidentially,  how- 
ever, the  officers  were  instructed  to  fetch  ample 
stores  of  bread,  beef,  pork,  and  flour  to  the  quarter- 
deck and  to  arrange  for  distributing  the  crew  among 
the  boats  that  were  to  be  called  away  from  the  other 
ships.  Such  boats  of  the  Ramillies  as  had  not  been 
smashed  by  the  storm  were  to  be  ready  to  launch, 
and  every  officer  would  be  held  responsible  for  the 
men  in  his  own  division.  As  soon  as  the  invalids 
were  safely  out  of  the  ship,  the  whole  crew  would 
be  embarked  in  an  orderly  and  deliberate  manner. 

Accordingly  at  dawn,  the  signal  was  made  for  the  boats 
of  the  merchantmen,  but  nobody  suspected  what  was  to 
follow  until  the  bread  was  entirely  removed  and  the  sick 
gone.  About  six  o'clock  the  rest  of  the  crew  were  per- 
mitted to  go  off,  and  between  nine  and  ten,  there  being 
nothing  farther  to  direct  or  regulate,  the  admiral  him- 
self, after  shaking  hands  with  every  officer,  and  leaving  his 
barge  for  their  better  accommodation  and  transport, 
quitted  forever  the  RamMies  which  had  then  nine  feet  of 
water  in  her  hold.  He  went  into  a  small  leaky  boat, 
loaded  with  bread,  out  of  which  both  himself  and  the  sur- 
geon who  accompanied  him  had  to  bale  the  water  all  the 
way.  He  was  in  his  boots,  with  his  surtout  over  his  uni- 
form, and  his  countenance  as  calm  and  composed  as  ever. 
He  had,  at  going  off  left  behind  all  his  stock,  wines,  furni- 


340     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ture,  books,  charts,  &c.  which  had  cost  him  upwards  of 
one  thousand  pounds,  being  unwilling  to  employ  even  a 
single  servant  in  saving  or  packing  up  what  belonged  to 
himself  alone,  in  a  time  of  such  general  calamity,  or  to 
appear  to  fare  better  in  that  respect  than  any  of  the  crew. 
The  admiral  rowed  for  the  Bettet  Captain  Foster,  being 
the  first  of  the  trading  vessels  that  had  borne  up  to  the 
Ramillies  the  preceding  night,  and  by  his  anxious  human- 
ity set  such  an  example  to  his  brother  traders  as  had  a 
powerful  influence  upon  them,  an  influence  which  was  gen- 
erally followed  by  sixteen  other  ships* 

Two  hours  after  the  six  hundred  men  of  the 
Eamillies  had  been  taken  off,  the  weather,  which  had 
moderated,  became  furious  again,  and  during  a 
whole  week  after  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  handle  boats  in  the  wicked  seas.  Admiral 
Graves  had  managed  the  weather  as  handsomely  as 
he  did  his  ship  and  her  men,  getting  them  away  at 
precisely  the  right  moment  and  making  a  record  for 
efficiency  and  resolution  which  must  commend  itself 
to  every  mariner,  whether  or  not  he  happens  to  be 
a  Britisher.  On  October  10  the  Belle  safely  car- 
ried the  admiral  into  Cork  Harbor,  where  he  hoisted 
his  pennant  aboard  the  frigate  Myrmidon.  The 
crew  reached  port  in  various  ships,  excepting  a  few 
who  were  bagged  by  French  privateers  which 
swooped  seaward  at  the  news  that  the  great  West 
India  convoy  had  been  dispersed  by  a  storm. 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  341 

Of  the  other  British  men-of-war  which  went  to 
the  bottom,  the  story  of  the  Centaur  was  reported 
by  her  commander,  Captain  Inglefield,  who  was  one 
of  the  thirteen  survivors  of  a  crew  of  more  than  four 
hundred  men.  Whether  or  not  he  should  have 
stayed  with  his  hapless  people  and  suffered  the  com- 
mon fate  is  a  difficult  problem  for  a  landsman  to 
weigh,  but  the  facts  speak  for  themselves,  and  they 
afford  opportunity  to  compare  his  behavior  with 
that  of  Admiral  Graves  of  the  Ramillies.  Tried  by 
an  Admiralty  court  martial,  Captain  Inglefield  was 
honorably  acquitted  of  all  blame,  and  his  official  rec- 
ord is  therefore  without  a  stain. 

During  the  first  night  of  the  storm  the  Centaur 
was  thrown  on  her  beam-ends,  and  was  to  all  ap- 
pearances a  capsized  ship.  The  masts  were  cut 
away,  and  she  righted  suddenly.  Three  guns  broke 
adrift  on  the  main-deck,  and  the  heavy  round  shot 
spilled  out  of  the  smashed  lockers.  There  was  a 
devil's  game  of  bowls  below,  with  these  ponderous 
objects  madly  charging  to  and  fro  to  the  violent  mo- 
tion of  the  ship,  such  a  scene  as  Victor  Hugo 
painted  in  a  famous  chapter  of  his  "Ninety-Three." 
The  bluejackets  scrambled  after  these  infernal 
guns,  which  could  be  subdued  only  by  snaring  them 
with  ropes  and  tackles.  They  destroyed  everything 
in  their  path,  maiming  or  slaying  the  sailors  who 


342     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

were  not  agile  enough  to  dodge  the  onslaught,  re- 
ducing bulkheads,  stanchions,  deck-beams  to  kin- 
dling wood;  but  they  were  captured  after  a  long 
conflict  and  before  they  could  batter  the  oaken  sides 
out  of  the  ship. 

There  was  a  glimpse  of  hope  in  the  early  morn- 
ing when  the  Ville  de  Paris  was  sighted  two  miles 
to  windward.  The  storm  had  subsided,  a  sort  of 
breathing-spell  between  the  outbreaks  of  terrific 
weather.  The  stately  three-decker  of  a  Frenchman 
lifted  all  her  masts  against  the  foaming  sky-line  and 
was  even  setting  a  topsail.  Plunging  her  long  rows 
of  painted  gun-ports  under,  she  climbed  buoyantly 
to  meet  the  next  gray-backed  comber,  while  the  cop- 
per glinted  almost  to  her  keel  as  she  wildly  rolled 
and  staggered.  This  captured  flag-ship  in  which 
De  Grasse,  fresh  from  the  triumph  of  Cornwallis's 
surrender  at  Yorktown,  had  confidently  expected  to 
crush  Rodney  and  so  sweep  the  seas  of  the  New 
World  for  France,  seemed  to  have  been  vouchsafed 
some  peculiar  respite  by  the  god  of  storms.  To 
those  who  beheld  her  from  the  drowning  Centaur 
the  impression  conveyed  was  the  same  as  that  re- 
ported by  Admiral  Graves,  that  she  had  miracu- 
lously come  through  unhurt,  the  only  ship  of  this 
great  fleet  whose  lofty  spars  still  stood. 

Captain  Inglefield  began  firing  guns  in  token  of 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  343 

distress,  and  the  Ville  de  Paris  bore  straight  toward 
him,  responding  to  her  helm  and  handling  like  a 
ship  which  was  under  complete  control.  Two  mer- 
chant vessels  passed  close  enough  to  hail  the  Cen- 
taur and  offer  help,  but  Captain  Inglefield  waved 
them  on  their  courses,  so  confident  was  he  that  the 
Ville  de  Paris,  now  flying  the  ensign  of  the  British 
navy,  would  stand  by.  Another  merchantman 
passing  close  aboard,  the  Centaur  asked  her  to  take 
word  to  Captain  Wilkinson  of  the  Ville  de  Paris 
that  he  was  urgently  needed.  A  little  while  and,  in- 
explicably, the  captured  flag-ship  passed  without 
making  a  signal  and  held  on  the  same  tack  until  she 
vanished  in  the  mist,  passed  forever  with  her  eight 
hundred  men  just  as  she  had  disappeared  from  the 
sight  of  those  who  gazed  and  wondered  from  the 
decks  of  the  Ramillies.  The  sea  holds  many  an  un- 
finished story,  and  the  tall  Ville  de  Paris  was  one  of 
them. 

On  board  the  Centaur  they  pumped  and  they 
baled  and  gulped  down  the  stiff  rations  of  grog  and 
hoped  to  fetch  her  through,  as  is  the  way  of  simple 
sailormen.  Captain  Inglefield  noted  that  "the 
people  worked  without  a  murmur  and  indeed  with 
cheerfulness."  In  1782  men-of-war's-men  were 
singing  Didbin's  hearty  sea-songs,  which  held  senti- 
ment enough  to  please  a  mariner's  heart,  and  pos- 


344     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

sibly  the  clattering  beat  of  the  chain  pumps  of  the 
Centaur  were  timed  to  the  chorus  of  "Blow  High, 
Blow  Low,"  and  the  gloomy,  reeking  main-deck 
echoed  the  verses: 

"And  on  that  night  when  all  the  crew, 

The  memory  of  their  former  lives 
O'er  flowing  cans  of  flip  renewj 

And  drink  their  sweethearts  and  their  wives, 
I  '11  heave  a  sigh  and  think  on  thee  J 

And,  as  the  ship  rolls  through  the  sea, 
The  burden  of  my  song  shall  be 
Blow  high,  blow  low,  let  tempests  tear 

The  mainmast  by  the  board.'* 

The  Centaur  was  left  on  a  lonely  sea  after  the 
assistance  of  the  crippled  merchantmen  had  been 
courteously  declined  and  the  Ville  de  Paris  had  so 
unaccountably  sailed  past.  At  night  the  flashes  of 
guns  were  seen,  the  farewell  messages  of  founder- 
ing ships,  but  through  the  long  day  there  was  never 
a  sight  of  a  sail.  The  Centatvr  settled  deeper  and 
deeper  until  her  lower  decks  were  awash  and  it  was 
foolish  to  pump  and  bale  any  longer.  What  was 
the  use  of  trying  to  lift  the  Atlantic  Ocean  out  of  a 
ship  that  refused  to  stay  afloat?  It  was  not  so 
much  the  fear  of  death  as  the  realization  of  defeat 
that  caused  such  a  scene  as  this ; 

"The  people  who,  till  this  period,  had  labored  as 
determined  to  conquer  their  difficulties,  without  a 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  345 

murmur,  or  without  a  tear,  seeing  their  efforts  use- 
less, many  of  them  burst  into  tears  and  wept  like 
children." 

There  were  boats  for  only  a  few  of  the  large  com- 
pany, and  such  rafts  as  could  be  hastily  put  to- 
gether would  not  have  survived  an  hour  in  the  seas 
that  still  ran  high  and  menacing.  By  way  of  doing 
something,  however,  the  carpenter's  gang  swung 
out  some  spars  and  booms  and  began  to  lash  them 
together.  Captain  Inglefield  made  mention  of  the 
behavior  of  the  crew  in  this  interesting  reference, 

Some  appeared  perfectly  resigned,  went  to  their  ham- 
mocks and  desired  their  messmates  to  lash  them  in ;  others 
were  securing  themselves  to  gratings  and  small  rafts ;  but 
the  most  predominant  idea  was  that  of  putting  on  their 
best  and  cleanest  clothes. 

This  desire  of  making  a  decent  appearance  when 
in  the  presence  of  death  is  curiously  frequent  in  the 
annals  of  the  sea  and  may  be  called  a  characteristic 
trait  of  the  sailor.  At  random  two  instances  recur 
to  mind.  One  of  them  happened  aboard  the  United 
States  frigate  Essex  in  the  War  of  1812,  when  Cap- 
tain David  Porter  fought  his  great  fight  against 
the  Phoebe  and  the  Cherub  and  won  glory  in  de- 
feat. The  decks  of  the  Essex  were  covered  with 
dead  and  wounded,  and  more  than  half  her  crew 
had  fallen  when  the  starry  ensign  was  hauled  down. 


346     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Then,  as  one  of  them  told  it  when  he  returned  home : 
"After  the  engagement,  Benjamin  Hazen,  hav- 
ing dressed  himself  in  a  clean  shirt  and  jerkin,  told 
what  messmates  of  his  that  were  left  that  he  could 
never  submit  to  be  taken  as  a  prisoner  by  the  Eng- 
lish and  leaped  into  the  sea  where  he  was  drowned." 
More  than  a  hundred  years  later,  in  the  Great 
War  against  Germany,  an  American  yacht  enrolled 
in  the  naval  service  was  hunting  submarines  and 
convoying  transports  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  when  a 
hurricane  almost  tore  her  to  pieces.  Deck-houses 
smashed,  hold  full  of  water,  the  yacht  was  not  ex- 
pected to  survive  the  night.  Then  it  was  that  a 
boatswain's  mate  related: 

A  guy  of  my  division  appeared  on  deck  all  dressed  up 
in  his  liberty  blues.  The  bos'n's-mate  asked  him  what  he 
meant  by  turning  out  all  dolled  up  like  that.  "Why, 
Jack,"  answered  this  cheerful  gob,  "I  have  a  date  with  a 
mermaid  in  Davy  Jones'  locker." 

Captain  Inglefield  of  the  Centaur  was  about  to 
make  one  of  those  momentous  decisions  which  now 
and  then  confront  a  man  as  he  stands  at  the  cross- 
roads of  destiny.  When  he  prepared  his  own  case 
and  submitted  his  defense,  in  the  narrative  written 
after  his  return  to  England,  he  stated  it  with  a  cer- 
tain unconscious  art  which  deserves  to  be  quoted  as 
follows : 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  347 

As  evening  approached,  the  ship  seemed  little  more 
than  suspended  in  the  water.  There  was  no  certainty 
that  she  would  swim  from  one  minute  to  another ;  and  the 
love  of  life,  now  began  to  level  all  distinctions.  It  was 
impossible,  indeed,  for  any  man  to  deceive  himself  with 
the  hopes  of  being  saved  on  a  raft  on  such  a  sea ;  besides, 
it  was  probable  that  the  ship  in  sinking  would  carry 
everything  down  with  her  in  a  vortex. 

It  was  near  five  o'clock,  when  coming  from  my  cabin,  I 
observed  a  number  of  people  gazing  very  anxiously  over 
the  side;  and  looking  myself,  I  saw  that  several  men  had 
forced  the  pinnace  and  that  more  were  attempting  to  get 
in.  I  had  thoughts  of  securing  this  boat  before  she  might 
be  sunk  by  numbers;  there  appeared  not  a  moment  for 
consideration;  to  remain  and  perish  with  the  ship's  com- 
pany to  whom  I  could  no  longer  be  of  any  use,  or  seize  the 
opportunity,  which  seemed  the  only  one  of  escaping  and 
leave  the  people  with  whom,  on  a  variety  of  occasions  I 
had  been  so  well  satisfied  that  I  thought  I  could  give  my 
life  to  preserve  them.  This  was,  indeed,  a  painful  con- 
flict and  of  which,  I  believe,  no  man  could  form  a  just 
idea  who  had  not  been  placed  in  a  similar  situation. 

The  love  of  life  prevailed.  I  called  to  Mr.  Rainey,  the 
master,  the  only  officer  on  deck,  and  desired  him  to  follow 
me  and  we  immediately  descended  into  the  boat  by  the 
after  part  of  the  chains.  But  it  was  not  without  great 
difficulty  that  we  got  her  clear  of  the  ship,  twice  the 
number  that  she  could  carry  pushing  in,  and  many  leap- 
ing into  the  water.  Mr.  Baylis,  a  young  gentleman  of 
fifteen  years  of  age,  leaped  from  the  chains  after  the  boat 
had  got  off  and  was  taken  in. 

Yes,  the  love  of  life  had  prevailed  with  Captain 


348     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Inglefield  of  the  Centaur,  and,  no  matter  how  pain- 
ful his  moral  conflict,  it  is  obvious  that  his  departure 
was  attended  with  a  kind  of  skulking  ignominy. 
He  ran  away  from  his  comrades  to  save  his  own  skin 
and  left  them  in  the  lurch.  This  is  quixotic,  per- 
haps, but  are  not  all  questions  of  honor  more  or  less 
irrational?  The  captain's  narrative  makes  no  far- 
ther mention  of  the  sinking  Centaur.  At  five 
o'clock  of  a  September  afternoon  in  the  North  At- 
lantic, two  hours  of  daylight  remained  even  in  thick 
and  cloudy  weather.  The  four  hundred  men 
aboard  the  ship  could  watch  the  pinnace  as  she  scud- 
ded before  the  wind  with  a  blanket  stretched  for  a 
sail  and  her  course  laid  for  the  Azores,  I  imagine 
they  damned  the  soul  of  their  captain  in  curses  that 
were  wrenched  from  the  bottom  of  their  hearts  in- 
stead of  extenuating  his  conduct  and  wishing  him 
luck.  And  presumably  Captain  Inglefield  turned 
to  gaze  at  the  foundering  man-of-war  with  her 
people  clustered  on  deck  or  busied  with  the  pitifully 
futile  rafts.  Nobody  knows  how  much  longer  the 
Centaur  floated.  The  time  must  have  been  merci- 
fully brief.  When  she  went  under,  every  man  on 
board  was  drowned. 

The  captain  expected  sympathy,  and  you  may 
offer  him  as  much  as  you  like  when  he  relates  of  his 
voyage  in  the  small  boat: 


FLEET  OF  ADMIRAL  GRAVES  849 

It  was  then  that  I  became  Sensible  how  little,  if  any- 
thing, our  condition  was  better  than  that  of  those  who 
remained  in  the  ship.  At  least,  it  seemed  to  be  only  the 
prolongation  of  a  miserable  existence,  We  were  alto- 
gether twelve  in  number,  in  a  leaky  boat,  with  one  of  the 
gunwales  stove,  in  nearly  the  middle  of  the  Western  Ocean, 
without  compass,  quadrant,  or  sail ;  wanting  great  coat  or 
cloak,  all  very  thinly  clothed,  in  a  gale  of  wind  and  with  a 
great  sea  running.  *  .  «  On  examining  what  means  we 
had  of  subsistence,  I  found  a  bag  of  bread,  a  small  ham, 
a  single  piece  of  pork,  two  quart  bottles  of  water,  and  a 
few  French  cordials. 

They  were  thirteen  days  adrift  and  suffered  ex- 
ceedingly, but  only  one  man  died  of  hunger  and 
cold,  and  the  others  recovered  their  strength  in  the 
hospitable  port  of  Fayal.  These  were  the  captain, 
the  master,  a  young  midshipman,  a  surgeon's  mate, 
a  coxswain,  a  quartermaster,  and  five  seamen. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  BRISK  YARN  OF  THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER 

CAPTAIN  GEORGE  SHELVOCKE  was 
one  of  many  seameri  adventurers  unknown  to 
fame  who  sought  a  quick  and  bloody  road  to  fortune 
by  laying  violent  hands  on  the  golden  ingots  in  the 
Spanish  galleons  of  Mexico  and  Peru.  A  state  of 
war  made  this  a  lawful  pastime  for  lawless  men,  and 
such  were  those  that  sailed  from  Plymouth  on  Feb- 
ruary 13,  1720,  in  the  little  armed  ship  Speedwell, 
bound  out  from  England  to  South  America  with  a 
privateering  commission.  She  was  of  two  hundred 
tons  burden,  and  there  could  have  been  no  room  to 
swing  a  cat  by  the  tail,  what  with  eighteen  six- 
pounders  mounted  between-decks,  a  fourteen-oar 
launch  stowed  beneath  the  hatches,  provisions  for  a 
long  voyage,  and  a  crew  of  a  hundred  men.  Most 
of  these  were  landlubbers,  wastrels  of  the  taverns 
and  the  waterside,  who  were  so  terrified  by  the  first 
gale  of  wind  that  seventy  of  them  "were  resolved  on 
bearing  away  for  England  to  make  a  complaint 
against  the  ship.  They  alleged  that  she  was  so  very 

350 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER    351 

crank  that  she  would  never  be  able  to  encounter  a 
voyage  to  the  South  Seas/' 

The  fact  that  the  seventy  objectors  were  unani- 
mously seasick  delayed  the  mutiny;  besides  which, 
Captain  Shelvocke  talked  to  them,  and  he  was  a 
persuasive  man  whenever  he  used  a  pair  of  flint- 
lock pistols  to  make  his  meaning  clear.  With 
calmer  weather  the  seventy  recalcitrants  plucked  up 
spirit  to  renew  the  argument,  and  went  so  far  as  to 
seize  the  helm  and  trim  the  yards  on  a  course  toward 
England.  The  captain  was  now  seriously  vexed. 
With  a  dozen  officers  behind  him,  he  overruled  the 
majority,  tied  two  of  them  in  the  rigging,  and  or- 
dered them  handsomely  flogged,  and  consented  to 
forgive  the  others  on  promise  of  good  behavior. 
"Nevertheless,"  remarks  a  commentator,  "it  oc- 
casioned him  great  uneasiness  to  find  himself  with  a 
ship's  company  likely  to  occasion  such  trouble  and 
vexation." 

The  Speedwell  almost  foundered  before  she  was  a 
fortnight  at  sea,  the  pumps  going,  crew  praying, 
and  some  of  her  provisions  and  gunpowder  spoiled 
by  salt  water;  but  Captain  George  Shelvocke 
shoved  her  along  for  the  South  Sea,  half  a  world 
away,  and  set  it  down  as  all  in  the  day's  work.  Sea- 
faring in  the  early  eighteenth  century  was  not  a 
vocation  for  children  or  weaklings. 


352     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

Seeking  harbor  on  the  coast  of  Brazil  to  obtain 
wood  and  water,  the  Speedwell  fell  in  with  a  French 
man-of-war  whose  commander  and  officers  were  in- 
vited aboard  the  privateer  for  dinner.  The  crew 
was  inconsiderate  enough  to  touch  off  another  mu- 
tiny, which  interrupted  the  pleasant  party;  but  the 
French  guests  gallantly  sailed  into  the  ruction,  and 
their  swords  assisted  in  restoring  order,  after  which 
dinner  was  finished.  Captain  Shelvocke  apologized 
for  the  behavior  of  his  crew,  and  explained  that  "it 
was  the  source  of  melancholy  reflection  that  he,  who 
had  been  an  officer  thirty  years  in  the  service  should 
now  be  continually  harassed  by  the  mutiny  of  tur- 
bulent people."  Most  of  them  were  for  deserting, 
but  he  rounded  them  up  ashore  and  clubbed  them 
into  the  boats,  and  the  Speedwell  sailed  to  dare  the 
Cape  Horn  passage. 

For  two  long  months  she  was  beating  off  Terra 
del  Fuego  and  fighting  her  way  into  the  Pacific, 
spars  and  rigging  sheathed  in  ice,  the  landlubbers 
benumbed  and  useless,  decks  swept  by  the  Cape 
Horn  combers ;  but  Captain  (George  Shelvocke  had 
never  a  thought  in  his  head  of  putting  back  and 
quitting  the  golden  adventure.  He  finally  made 
the  coast  of  Chile,  at  the  island  of  Chilo6,  and  when 
the  Spanish  governor  of  the  little  settlement  re- 
fused to  sell  him  provisions,  he  went  ashore  and 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER     353 

took  them.  All  was  fair  in  the  enemy's  waters,  and 
the  Speedwell  began  to  look  for  ships  to  plunder. 
He  snapped  up  two  small  ones,  and  then  captured 
the  Saint  Firmin,  a  three-hundred-ton  merchant 
vessel  with  a  valuable  cargo.  A  flag  of  truce  came 
out  from  the  nearest  port  with  proposals  of  ransom, 
and  a  Jesuit  priest,  as  a  messenger,  begged  the  cap- 
tain to  restore  to  him  ten  great  silver  candlesticks 
which  had  been  left  as  a  legacy  to  the  convent.  The 
bargaining  came  to  naught,  and  the  booty  was  sold 
to  the  crew  at  an  auction  "before  the  mast/'  after 
which  the  ship  was  burned. 

The  Speedwell  next  captured  the  town  of  Payta 
and  put  the  torch  to  it  after  the  governor  had  re- 
fused to  contribute  ten  thousand  pieces  of  eight. 
While  the  crew  was  ashore,  a  heavily  armed  ship 
came  sailing  in,  and  the  flag  at  her  yard  proclaimed 
that  a  Spanish  admiral  was  in  command.  In  the 
privateer  were  left  only  the  sailing-master,  Mr. 
Coldsea,  and  nine  men;  but  they  served  the  guns 
with  so  much  energy  tBat  the  admiral  cleared  for 
action  and  reckoned  he  had  met  up  with  a  tough 
antagonist.  While  they  were  banging  away  at 
each  other,  Captain  Shelvocke  was  hustling  his  men 
into  the  boats  and  pulling  off  from  shore;  but  be- 
fore they  had  reached  their  own  ship,  the  Spanish 
admiral  had  ranged  within  pistol-shot  and  was  let- 


354     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

ting  go  his  broadside.  The  situation  was  ticklish 
in  the  extreme,  but  the  narrative  explains  it  quite 
calmly : 

Captain  Shelvocke  then  cut  his  cable,  when  the  ship 
falling  the  wrong  way,  he  could  just  clear  the  admiral; 
but  there  was  a  great  damp  cast  on  the  spirits  of  his 
people,  at  seeing  a  ship  mounting  fifty-six  guns,  with 
four  hundred  and  twenty  men,  opposed  to  the  Speedwell 
which  had  only  twenty  then  mounted,  with  seventy-three 
white  men  and  eleven  negroes.  Some  of  them  in  coming 
off,  were  for  leaping  into  the  water  and  swimming  ashore, 
which  one  actually  did. 

Drifting  under  the  admiral's  lee,  the  Speedwell 
was  becalmed  for  an  hour,  while  the  powder-smoke 
obscured  them  both,  the  guns  flamed,  and  the  round 
shot  splintered  the  oak  timbers.  Captain  Shel- 
vocke's  ensign  was  shot  away,  and  the  Spanish  sail- 
ors swarmed  upon  their  high  forecastle  and  cheered 
as  they  made  ready  to  board;  but  another  British 
ensign  soared  aloft,  and  then  a  breeze  drew  the  pri- 
vateer clear,  and  she  bore  for  the  open  sea.  Her 
rigging  was  mostly  shot  away,  there  was  a  cannon- 
ball  in  the  mainmast,  the  stern  had  been  shattered, 
guns  were  dismounted,  and  the  launch  had  been 
blown  to  match-wood  by  the  explosion  of  a  pile  of 
powder-bags ;  but  she  clapped  on  sail  somehow  and 
ran  away  from  the  Spanish  flag-ship,  which  came 
lumbering  out  after  her. 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER    355 

The  Speedwell  was  chased  next  day  by  another 
man-of-war,  but  dodged  after  nightfall  by  means  of 
the  expedient  of  setting  a  lighted  lantern  adrift  in 
a  tub  and  so  deluding  the  enemy.  It  was  the  sen- 
sible conclusion  of  Captain  Shelvocke  that  there 
might  be  better  hunting  on  the  coast  of  Mexico. 
South  American  waters  seemed  to  be  rather  uncom- 
fortable for  gentlemen  adventurers. 

The  privateer  stood  away  for  the  island  of  Juan 
Fernandez  to  refit  and  rest  her  crew.  They  needed 
a  respite  by  the  time  the  island  was  sighted,  for  they 
were  six  weeks  on  the  way,  and  the  ship  sprang  a 
leak  where  a  Spanish  shot  had  lodged  in  her  bow, 
and  they  pumped  until  they  dropped  in  their  tracks. 
Eleven  years  earlier  Alexander  Selkirk,  who  was 
the  real  Robinson  Crusoe,  had  been  rescued  from 
his  solitary  exile  on  Juan  Fernandez,  where  Cap- 
tain Dampier's  expedition  had  marooned  him. 
With  his  garden  and  his  flock  of  wild  goats  and  his 
Holy  Bible  he  had  passed  four  years  of  an  existence 
so  satisfactory 

that  he  scarce  ever  had  a  moment  hang  heavy  on  his 
hands;  his  nights  were  untroubled  and  his  days  joyous, 
from  the  practice  of  temperance  and  exercise.  It  was 
his  custom  to  use  stated  hours  and  places  for  the  exercise 
of  devotion  which  he  performed  aloud  in  order  to  keep  up 
the  faculties  of  speech.  .  .  .  When  his  powder  failed, 
he  took  the  goats  by  speed  of  foot,  for  his  way  of  living 


356     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

and  continual  exercise  of  walking  and  running  cleared  him 
of  all  gross  humors,  so  that  he  ran  with  wonderful  agility, 
through  the  woods  and  up  the  rocks  and  hills. 

When  he  arrived  at  his  full  vigor,  he  could  take  at  full 
speed  the  swiftest  goat  running  up  a  promontory  and 
never  failed  catching  them  but  on  a  descent.  .  «  4  The 
precaution  he  took  against  want,  in  case  of  sickness  and 
not  being  able  to  go  abroad,  was  to  lame  kids  when  very 
young,  so  that  they  might  recover  their  health,  but  never 
be  capable  of  speed.  These  he  kept  in  great  numbers 
about  his  habitation,  and  taught  several  of  them  and  his 
cats,  to  dance  and  sometimes,  to  divert  himself  he  used  to 
sing  and  dance  with  them.  He  also  diverted  himself  with 
contrivances  to  vary  and  increase  his  stock  of  tools,  and 
sometimes,  in  clear  evenings,  in  counting  the  stars. 

So  beneficial  were  the  results  that  it  might  have 
improved  the  morals  and  the  manners  of  Alexander 
Selkirk's  shipmates  if  they  had  been  marooned  with 
him.  This  was  the  fate,  indeed,  which  happened  to 
the  crew  of  the  Speedwell.  While  they  were  filling 
the  water-casks,  a  gale  drove  the  ship  hard  ashore. 
The  disaster  came  so  suddenly  that  "their  surprise 
at  this  unexpected  event  is  not  to  be  described ;  and 
in  a  very  few  minutes  the  ship  was  full  of  water  and 
almost  everything  destroyed.  All  the  people,  how- 
ever, except  one  man  were  saved." 

As  was  to  be  expected,  Captain  George  Shel- 
vocke  proceeded  to  make  the  best  of  it.  He  man- 
aged to  raft  ashore  most  of  the  gunpowder,  some 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER    357 

bread  and  beef,  the  nautical  instruments  and  com- 
passes, and  was  careful  to  see  that  his  precious 
privateering  commission  was  safely  in  his  pocket. 
It  will  be  inferred  from  this  that  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  letting  so  small  a  trifle  as  a  shipwreck  inter- 
fere with  his  pkns  of  disturbing  the  peace  of  the 
viceroys  of  Spain.  A  little  village  of  tents  and  huts 
was  promptly  built  near  a  stream  of  fresh  water, 
and  when  the  castaways  had  sufficiently  rested  their 
weary  bones,  the  captain  called  them  together  and 
announced  that  they  would  have  to  build  a  small 
vessel  if  they  did  not  wish  to  spend  the  rest  of  their 
days  on  this  desolate  island.  He  was  not  one  to  be 
content  with  devotional  exercises  and  a  household  of 
dancing  goats  and  cats.  His  crew  replied  that  they 
were  anxious  to  build  some  sort  of  craft  if  he  would 
show  them  how,  and  accordingly  they  pulled  the 
wreck  of  the  Speedwell  apart  and  piled  the  timbers 
on  the  beach. 

Keel-blocks  were  set  up,  and  they  began  to  put 
together  what  they  called  a  bark.  It  was  to  be  only 
forty  feet  long,  with  a  depth  of  seven  feet,  by  no 
means  large  enough  to  hold  a  hundred  men,  but 
material  was  difficult  to  obtain  and  skilled  labor 
scarce.  The  armorer  directed  the  work,  being  a 
man  of  skill  and  industry;  but  after  two  months  of 
toil  the  fickle  company  tired  of  the  job  and  sought 


358     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

entertainment  in  mutiny.  Captain  Shelvocke  was 
a  harsh,  masterful  person,  so  a  conspiracy  deposed 
him  from  the  command,  and  a  new  set  of  articles 
was  drawn  up  which  organized  a  company  of  free 
adventurers  who  purposed  to  do  things  in  their  own 
way.  They  took  possession  of  the  m*iskets  and  pis- 
tols and  wandered  off  inland  to  waste  the  ammuni- 
tion in  shooting  goats. 

The  sight  of  a  large  Spanish  ship  in  the  offing 
put  a  check  on  this  nonsense.  If  captured,  they 
would  certainly  be  hanged;  so  they  flocked  in  to 
urge  Captain  Shelvocke  to  resume  the  command 
and  prepare  a  scheme  of  defense.  As  soon  as  the 
hostile  ship  disappeared,  however,  they  were  brew- 
ing trouble  afresh,  one  party  voting  to  elect  the  first 
lieutenant  as  captain,  another  standing  by  Captain 
Shelvocke,  and  a  third,  perhaps  a  dozen  in  number, 
deciding  to  quit  the  crew  and  remain  on  the  island. 
This  group  of  deserters  drifted  away  and  built  a 
camp  of  their  own  and  were  a  good  riddance.  The 
captain  got  the  upper  hand  of  the  rest,  and  the  labor 
of  finishing  the  tiny  bark  was  taken  up  again. 

When  it  came  to  planking  the  bottom,  the  only 
material  was  what  could  be  ripped  off  the  deck  of 
the  wrecked  Speedwell.  The  stuff  was  so  old  and 
brittle  that  it  split  into  small  pieces,  and  great  pains 
were  required  to  fit  it  to  the  frames  of  the  bark. 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER     359 

Then  the  seams  were  calked  as  tight  as  possible, 
and  water  poured  in  to  test  them.  Alas!  there  were 
leaks  from  stem  to  stern,  and  the  discouraged  sea- 
men swore  to  one  another  that  she  was  no  better 
than  a  damned  sieve.  They  were  ready  to  abandon 
the  enterprise,  but  Captain  Shelvocke  bullied  and 
coaxed  them  into  picking  up  their  tools  again. 

They  patched  and  calked  and  tinkered  until  it 
was  agreed  that  the  bark  might  possibly  be  kept 
afloat.  The  cooper  made  wooden  buckets  enough 
for  every  man  to  have  one  to  bale  with,  and  one  of 
the  ship's  pumps  was  mended  and  fitted  into  the 
hold.  Two  masts  were  set  up  and  rigged,  canvas 
patched  for  sails,  and  a  launching  day  set  to  catch 
the  spring  tide  of  October.  Meanwhile  the  cooper 
was  getting  casks  ready  for  provisions.  These  con- 
sisted of  two  thousand  conger-eels  which  had  been 
dried  in  smoke,  seal-oil  to  fry  them  in,  one  cask  of 
beef,  five  or  six  of  flour,  and  half  a  dozen  live  hogs. 

When  they  tried  to  launch  the  bark,  the  blocks 
gave  way,  and  she  fell  upon  her  side  and  stuck  fast. 
Again  the  faint-hearted  seamen  were  for  giving  up 
the  game  as  lost,  but  the  competent  armorer  rigged 
purchases  and  tackles  and  lifted  the  craft,  and  she 
slid  into  the  water  on  the  next  tide,  Captain  Shel- 
vocke duly  christening  her  the  Recovery.  For  an 
anchor  and  cable  they  had  to  use  a  large  stone  and 


360     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

a  light  rope;  so  before  she  could  drift  ashore  they 
stowed  themselves  aboard,  leaving  a  dozen  who  pre- 
ferred to  live  on  Juan  Fernandez  and  several  ne- 
groes who  could  shift  for  themselves.  There  had 
been  deaths  enough  to  reduce  the  number  of  of- 
ficers and  men  to  fifty  as  the  complement  of  the 
forty-foot  bark,  which  ran  up  the  British  ensign 
and  wallowed  out  into  the  wide  Pacific. 

It  was  then  found  that  one  pump  constantly  working 
would  keep  the  vessel  free.  In  distributing  the  provisions, 
one  of  the  conger  eels  was  allowed  to  each  man  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  which  was  cooked  on  a  fire  made  in  a  half 
tub  filled  with  earth;  and  the  water  was  sucked  out  of  a 
cask  by  means  of  a  musket  barrel.  The  people  on  board 
were  all  uncomfortably  crowded  together  and  lying  on 
the  bundles  of  eels,  and  in  this  manner  was  the  voyage 

resumed. 

i 

The  plans  of  Captain  George  Shelvocke  were 
direct  and  simple — to  steer  for  the  Bay  of  Concep- 
cion  as  the  nearest  port,  in  the  hope  of  capturing 
some  vessel  larger  and  more  comfortable  than  his 
own.  In  a  moderate  sea  the  bark  "tumbled  prodi- 
giously," and  all  hands  were  very  wet  because  the 
only  deck  above  them  was  a  grating  covered  with  a 
tarpaulin ;  but  the  captain  refused  to  bear  away  and 
ease  her.  At  some  distance  from  the  South  Ameri- 
can coast  a  large  ship  was  sighted  in  the  moonlight. 
The  desperate  circumstances  had  worn  the  line  be- 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER     361 

tween  privateering  and  piracy  very  thin,  but  in  the 
morning  it  was  discovered  that  the  ship  was  Spanish 
and  therefore  a  proper  prize  of  war.  She  did  not 
like  the  looks  of  the  little  bark  and  its  wild  crew, 
and  edged  away  with  all  canvas  set.  Captain  Shel- 
vocke  crowded  the  Recovery  in  chase  of  her,  and 
when  it  fell  calm,  his  men  swung  at  the  oars. 

The  audacious  bark  had  no  battery  of  guns,  mind 
you,  for  they  had  been  left  behind  in  the  wreck  of 
the  Speedwell.  One  small  cannon  had  been  hoisted 
aboard,  but  the  men  were  unable  to  mount  it,  and 
were  therefore  obliged  to  let  it  lie  on  deck  and  fire 
it,  jumping  clear  of  the  recoil  and  hitching  it  fast 
with  hawsers  to  prevent  it  from  hopping  over  the 
side.  For  ammunition  they  had  two  round  shot, 
a  few  chain-bolts  and  bolt-heads,  the  clapper  of  the 
Speedwell's  brass  bell,  and  some  bags  of  stones 
which  had  been  gathered  on  the  beach.  It  appeared 
that  they  would  have  to  carry  the  big  Spanish  ship 
by  boarding  her,  if  they  could  fetch  close  enough 
alongside,  though  they  were  also  in  a  very  bad  way 
for  small  arms.  A  third  of  the  muskets  lacked 
flints,  and  there  were  only  three  cutlasses  in  the 
crew. 

Captain  Shelvocke  ignored  these  odds,  and  held 
on  after  the  ship  until  a  four-hour  chase  brought 
him  within  a  few  hundred  feet  of  her,  so  near  that 


362     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  Spanish  sailors  could  be  heard  calling  them 
English  dogs  and  defying  them  to  come  on  board. 
Along  with  the  curses  flew  a  volley  of  great  and 
small  shot,  which  killed  the  Recovery's  gunner  and 
almost  carried  away  her  foremast. 

So  warm  a  reception  staggered  many  of  Captain  Shel- 
vocke's  men  and  those  who  before  seemed  the  most  for- 
ward now  lay  upon  their  oars,  insomuch  that  he  had  dif- 
ficulty to  make  them  keep  their  way.  But  recovering 
themselves,  they  rowed  up  and  engaged  the  enemy  until 
all  their  small  shot  was  expended,  which  done  they  fell 
astern  to  whittle  more  leaden  slugs. 

In  this  manner  they  made  three  attempts,  all  equally  un- 
successful; and  they  found  it  impossible  to  board  the 
ship,  she  was  so  lofty,  especially  from  the  want  of  pistols 
and  cutlasses  which  are  the  only  weapons  for  close  fight- 
ing. It  was  calm  the  whole  night  during  which  the  people 
of  the  Recovery  were  busy  making  slugs,  and  having  pro- 
vided a  great  quantity  against  morning,  they  came  to  the 
desperate  resolution  of  either  carrying  the  ship  or  of  sub- 
mitting to  her.  At  daybreak  Captain  Shelvocke  ordered 
twenty  men  into  the  yawl  to  lay  athwart  the  ship's  hawse 
whilst  he  boarded  in  the  dark.  The  people  in  the  boat 
put  off,  giving  him  repeated  assurances  of  their  deter- 
mination; but  just  at  this  very  juncture  of  coming  to  ac- 
tion, a  breeze  sprung  up  and  the  ship  gained  on  them. 
As  the  gale  freshened,  the  captain  expected  the  ship  would 
have  run  him  down,  which  she  could  have  easily  done; 
however,  she  bore  away,  probably  for  some  port  on  the 
coast,  Valparaiso  or  Coquimbo.  The  Recovery  chased 
her  all  that  day  and  the  following  night,  and  at  daylight 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER    363 

of  the  succeeding  morning  saw  her  close  to  the  land  and 
she  continued  her  course  along  shore  until  out  of  sight. 

With  several  officers  and  men  wounded,  the  er- 
rant little  bark  wandered  northward,  raiding  the 
coast  for  provisions  and  riding  out  one  gale  after 
another,  until  another  large  ship  was  encountered. 
This  was  the  stately  merchantman,  St.  Francisco 
Palacio  of  seven  hundred  tons.  By  way  of  com- 
parison, Captain  Shelvocke  estimated  his  bark  as 
measuring  about  twenty  tons.  The  Recovery 
rowed  up  to  her  in  a  calm  and  fought  her  for  six 
hours,  when  the  sea  roughened,  and  there  was  no 
hope  of  closing  in.  It  was  a  grievous  disappoint- 
ment, for  the  St.  Francisco  Palacio  was  so  deeply 
laden  with  rich  merchandise  that  as  she  rolled  the 
water  ran  through  her  scuppers  across  the  upper 
deck,  and  her  poop  towered  like  a  wooden  castle. 

The  second  failure  to  take  a  prize  made  the  un- 
steady crew  discontented,  and  several  of  them  stole 
the  best  boat  and  ran  away  with  it.  Mutiny  was 
forestalled  by  an  encounter  with  a  Spanish  vessel 
called  the  Jesus  Maria  in  the  roadstead  of  Pisco. 
Preparations  were  made  to  carry  her  by  storm,  as 
Captain  Shelvocke  concluded  that  she  would  suit 
his  requirements  very  nicely  and  his  bark  was  unfit 
to  keep  the  sea  any  longer.  The  Recovery  was 
jammed  alongside  after  one  blast  of  scrap-iron  and 


364     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

other  junk  from  the  prostrate  cannon,  and  the 
boarders  tumbled  over  the  bulwarks,  armed  with  the 
three  cutlasses  and  such  muskets  as  could  be  fired. 
The  Spanish  captain  and  his  officers  had  no  stomach 
to  resist  such  stubborn  visitors  as  these.  Doffing 
their  hats,  they  bowed  low  and  asked  for  quarter, 
which  Captain  Shelvocke  was  graciously  pleased  to 
grant.  The  Jesus  Maria  was  found  to  be  laden 
with  pitch,  tar,  copper,  and  plank,  and  her  captain 
offered  to  ransom  her  for  sixteen  thousand  dollars. 
Captain  Shelvocke  needed  the  ship  more  than 
he  did  the  money,  so  he  transferred  his  crew  to  the 
stout  Jesus  Maria  and  bundled  the  Spaniards  into 
the  Recovery  and  wished  them  the  best  of  luck. 
The  shipwreck  at  Juan  Fernandez  and  all  the  other 
misfortunes  were  forgotten.  The  adventurers  were 
in  as  good  a  ship  as  the  lost  Speedwell  and  needed 
only  more  guns  to  make  a  first-class  fighting  priva- 
teer of  her.  They  now  carried  out  the  original 
intention  of  cruising  to  Mexico,  and  in  those  waters 
captured  a  larger  ship,  the  Sacra  Familia  of  six 
guns  and  seventy  men.  Again  Captain  Shelvocke 
shifted  his  flag  and  left  the  Jesus  Maria  to  his  pris- 
oners. On  board  of  his  next  capture,  the  Holy 
Sacrament,  he  placed  a  prize  crew,  but  the  Spanish 
sailors  rose  and  killed  all  the  Englishmen,  and  the 


THE  SPEEDWELL  PRIVATEER     365 

number  of  those  who  had  sailed  from  England  in 
the  Speedwell  was  now  reduced  to  twenty-six. 

Off  the  coast  of  California  sickness  raged  among 
them  until  only  six  or  seven  sailors  were  fit  for  duty. 
Then  Captain  Shelvocke  did  the  boldest  thing  of  his 
career,  sailing  the  Holy  Sacrament  all  the  way 
across  the  Pacific  until  he  reached  the  China  coast 
and  found  refuge  in  the  harbor  of  Macao.  Then 
this  short-handed  crew  worked  the  battered  ship  to 
Canton,  where  the  captains  of  the  East  Indiamen 
expressed  their  amazement  at  the  ragged  sails,  the 
feeble,  sea-worn  men,  and  the  voyage  they  had 
made.  Captain  George  Shelvocke  by  this  feat 
alone  enrolled  himself  among  the  great  navigators 
of  the  eighteenth  century.  He  had  found  no  Span- 
ish galleons  to  plunder,  and  his  adventure  was  a  fail- 
ure, but  as  a  master  of  men  and  circumstances  he 
had  won  a  singular  success. 

He  saw  that  his  few  men  were  safely  embarked  in 
an  East  Indiaman  bound  to  London,  and  after  a 
vacation  in  Canton  he,  too,  went  home  as  a  passen- 
ger, completing  a  journey  around  the  globe. 
Three  and  a  half  years  had  passed  since  he  sailed 
from  Plymouth  in  the  Speedwell  with  a  mutinous 
crew  of  landlubbers  and  high  hopes  of  glittering 
fortune.  Almost  every  officer  had  died,  including 


366     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

the  sailing-master,  the  first  lieutenant,  the  gunner, 
the  armorer,  and  the  carpenter,  and  of  the  original 
company,  a  hundred  strong,  no  more  than  a  dozen 
saw  England  again.  Nothing  more  is  known  of 
the  seafaring  career  of  Captain  Shelvocke,  but  he 
was  no  man  to  idle  on  a  quay  or  loaf  in  a  tap-room, 
and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he  lived  other  stories  that 
would  be  vastly  entertaining. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

LUCKLESS   SEAMEN   LONG  IN   EXILE 

ROBINSON  CRUSOE  recoiling  from  the 
discovery  of  the  footprint  in  the  sand  is 
what  Stevenson  calls  one  of  the  epoch-making 
scenes  in  all  romantic  literature,  to  be  compared 
with  Achilles  shouting  over  against  the  Trojans, 
Ulysses  bending  the  great  bow,  and  Christian  run- 
ning with  his  fingers  in  his  ears.  There  is,  never- 
theless, among  the  true  stories  of  seafaring  adven- 
ture at  least  one  scene  which  is  not  unworthy  of 
mention  in  the  same  breath  with  the  culminating 
moment  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  This  occurred  when 
Peter  Serrano  encountered  the  other  castaway  on  a 
desert  island  off  the  coast  of  Chile. 

It  was  in  the  early  days  of  Spanish  exploration 
and  settlement  on  the  South  American  coasts  when 
this  sailor,  Peter  Serrano,  was  wrecked,  and  saved 
himself  by  swimming  ashore  while  the  rest  of  the 
crew  were  drowned.  He  crawled  out  upon  an 
island  so  dismally  barren  that  it  had  neither  water, 
wood,  nor  grass,  and  not  a  bit  of  wreckage  was 

367 


368     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

washed  ashore  with  him,  no  provisions,  no  timbers 
with  which  to  build  a  boat.  In  short,  Peter  Serrano 
had  absolutely  none  of  the  resources  of  the  ship- 
wrecks of  fiction. 

When  the  huge  sea  turtles  crawled  up  on  the  sand 
he  threw  them  over  upon  their  backs  and  cut  their 
throats  with  his  sheath-knife.  The  blood  he  drank, 
and  the  flesh  was  eaten  raw  or  dried  in  the  blazing 
sun.  Other  distressed  mariners  have  thanked  God 
for  this  same  food,  and  it  may  explain  to  the  lands- 
man why  a  ship  is  said  to  "turn  turtle"  when  she 
capsizes.  Peter  Serrano,  who  was  cast  ashore  with 
only  his  ready  wits  and  his  sheath-knife,  scraped 
out  the  shells  of  these  great  turtles  and  used  them  to 
catch  water  when  the  heavy  rains  fell.  He  was 
therefore  provided  with  food  and  drink,  and  shelter 
was  the  next  essential. 

There  were  fragments  of  plank  from  ships  which 
had  been  lost  among  these  shoals,  but  they  were 
small  and  rotten  and  good  for  nothing  but  fire- 
wood. Peter  made  himself  a  little  roof  of  turtle- 
shells  large  enough  to  crawl  under,  but  the  heat  of 
the  sun  so  tormented  him  that  he  had  to  take  a  cool 
dip  in  the  salt  water  several  times  a  day.  However, 
he  had  organized  himself  for  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence and  was  now  determined  to  find  some  method 
of  making  fire.  How  he  succeeded  was  described 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        369 

by  his  biographer,  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega,  and  trans- 
lated into  English  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago. 

Considering  on  this  invention,  (for  seamen  are  much 
more  ingenious  in  all  times  of  extremity  than  men  bred  at 
land)  he  searched  everywhere  to  find  out  a  couple  of 
hard  pebbles,  instead  of  flints,  his  knife  serving  in  the 
place  of  a  steel.  But  the  island  being  covered  all  over 
with  a  dead  sand  and  no  stone  appearing,  he  swam  into 
the  sea  and  diving  often  to  the  bottom  he  at  length  found 
a  couple  of  stones  fit  for  his  purpose  which  he  rubbed  to- 
gether until  he  got  them  to  an  edge,  with  which  being  able 
to  strike  fire,  he  drew  some  threads  out  of  his  shirt  which 
he  worked  so  small  that  it  was  like  cotton,  and  served 
for  tinder.  So  that  having  contrived  a  means  to  kindle 
fire,  he  gathered  a  great  quantity  of  sea-weeds  thrown 
up  by  the  waves  which,  with  the  shells  of  fish  and  the  splin- 
ters of  old  ships  afforded  nourishment  for  his  fuel.  And 
lest  sudden  showers  should  extinguish  his  fire  he  made  a  lit- 
tle covering  for  it,  like  a  small  hut,  with  the  shells  of  the 
largest  turtles,  taking  great  care  that  his  fire  should  not 
go  out, 

Peter  Serrano  lived  alone  for  three  years  in  this 
condition  and  saw  several  ships  pass  the  island,  but 
none  turned  in  to  investigate  his  signal  smoke.  It 
is  easy  to  fancy  that  "being  exposed  to  all  weathers, 
the  hair  of  his  body  grew  in  that  manner  that  he  was 
covered  all  over  with  bristles,  and  the  hair  of  his 
head  and  beard  reaching  to  his  waist  he  appeared 
like  some  wild  savage  creature." 

Now  for  the  scene  which  is  extraordinary  for  its 


370     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

elements  of  romantic  climax.  Poor  Peter  Serrano 
did  not  know  it,  but  he  was  living  literature  as  de- 
fined by  the  masters.  It  is  quaintly  told  in  the 
original  narrative  and  needs  no  embroidery  of  com- 
ment. 

At  the  end  of  three  years,  Serrano  was  strangely  sur- 
prised with  the  appearance  of  a  man  in  his  island,  whose 
ship  had,  the  night  before,  been  cast  away  upon  those 
sands,  and  who  had  saved  himself  on  a  plank  of  the  vessel. 
As  soon  as  it  was  day  he  espied  the  smoke  and  imagining 
whence  it  was,  he  made  towards  it. 

As  soon  as  they  saw  each  other,  it  is  hard  to  say  which 
was  the  more  amazed.  Serrano  imagined  that  it  was  the 
devil  who  had  come  in  the  shape  of  a  man  to  tempt  him  to 
despair.  The  new-comer  believed  Serrano  to  be  the  devil 
in  his  own  proper  shape  and  figure,  being  covered  all  over 
with  hair  and  beard.  In  fine,  they  were  both  afraid,  fly- 
ing one  from  the  other.  Peter  Serrano  cried  out  as  he 
ran: 

"Jesus,  Jesus,  deliver  me  from  the  devil." 

The  other  hearing  this,  took  courage  and  returning 
again  to  him,  called  out: 

"Brother,  brother,  do  not  fly  from  me,  for  I  am  a 
Christian,  as  thou  art." 

And  because  he  saw  that  Serrano  still  ran  from  him, 
he  repeated  the  Credo,  or  Apostles'  Cheed  in  words  aloud, 
which,  when  Serrano  heard,  he  knew  it  was  no  devil  that 
would  recite  those  words,  and  thereupon  gave  a  stop  to 
his  flight,  and  returning  with  great  kindness  they  em- 
braced each  other  with  sighs  and  tears,  lamenting  their 
sad  state,  without  any  hopes  of  deliverance.  Serrano, 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        371 

supposing  that  his  guest  wanted  refreshment,  entertained 
him  with  such  provisions  as  his  miserable  life  afforded, 
and  having  a  little  comforted  each  other  they  began  to 
recount  the  manner  and  occasion  of  their  sad  disasters. 

For  the  better  government  of  their  way  of  living,  they 
designed  their  hours  of  day  and  night  to  certain  services ; 
such  a  time  was  appointed  to  kill  fish  for  eating,  such 
hours  for  gathering  weeds,  fish-bones,  and  other  matters 
which  the  sea  threw  up,  to  maintain  their  constant  fire. 
And  especial  care  had  they  to  observe  their  watches  and 
relieve  each  other  at  certain  hours,  that  so  they  might  be 
sure  their  fire  went  not  out. 

In  this  manner  they  lived  amiably  together  for  certain 
days,  but  many  days  did  not  pass  before  a  quarrel  arose 
between  them,  so  high  that  they  were  ready  to  fight.  The 
occasion  proceeded  from  some  words  that  one  gave  the 
other,  hinting  that  he  took  not  that  care  and  labor  as  the 
extremity  of  their  condition  required.  This  difference  so 
increased,  (for  to  such  misery  do  our  passions  often  be- 
tray us)  that  at  length  they  separated  and  lived  apart 
one  from  the  other. 

However,  in  a  short  time  having  experienced  the  want 
of  that  comfort  which  mutual  society  procures,  their 
choler  was  appeased  and  they  returned  to  enjoy  con- 
verse, and  the  assistance  which  friendship  and  company 
afforded,  in  which  condition  they  passed  four  years^ 
During  this  time  they  saw  many  ships  sail  near  them, 
yet  none  would  be  so  charitable  or  curious  as  to  be  in- 
vited by  their  smoke  and  flame.  So  that  being  now  almost 
desperate,  they  expected  no  other  remedy  besides  death  to 
put  an  end  to  their  miseries. 

However,  at  length  a  ship  venturing  to  pass  nearer 
than  ordinary,  espied  the  smoke,  and  rightly  judging  that 


372     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

it  must  be  made  by  some  shipwrecked  persons  escaped 
to  those  sands,  hoisted  out  their  boat  to  take  them  in. 
Serrano  and  his  companion  readily  ran  to  the  place 
where  they  saw  the  boat  coming,  but  as  soon  as  the  mar- 
iners approached  so  near  as  to  distinguished  the  strange 
figures  and  looks  of  these  two  men,  they  were  so  af- 
frighted that  they  began  to  row  back. 

But  the  poor  men  cried  out  an.d  that  they  might  believe 
them  not  to  be  devils  or"  evil  spirits,  they  rehearsed  the 
creed  and  called  aloud  the  name  of  Jesus,  with  which 
words  the  mariner's  returned,  took  them  into  the  boat  and 
carried  them  to  the  ships  to  the  great  wonder  of  all  pres- 
ent, who  with  admiration  beheld  their  hairy  shapes,  not 
like  men  but  beasts,  and  with  singular  pleasure  heard  them 
relate  the  story  of  their  past  misfortunes. 

The  companion  died  in  his  voyage  to  Spain,  but  Ser^ 
rano  lived  to  come  thither,  from  whence  he  travelled  into 
Germany  where  the  Emperor,  Charles  V,  then  resided :  all 
which  time  he  nourished  his  hair  and  beard  to  serve  as  an 
evidence  and  proof  of  his  past  life.  Wheresoever  he  came 
the  people  pressed,  as  to  a  sight,  to  see  him  for  money. 
Persons  of  quality,  having  the  same  curiosity,  gave  him 
sufficient  to  defray  his  charges,  and  his  Imperial  Majesty, 
having  seen  him  and  heard  his  discourses,  bestowed  a  rent 
upon  him  of  four  thousand  pieces  of  eight  a  year,  which 
make  forty-eight  hundred  ducats  in  Peru.  Alas,  while  go- 
ing to  take  possession  of  this  income,  Peter  Serrano  died 
at  Panama  and  had  no  farther  enjoyment  of  it. 

This  Spanish  sailor  of  long  ago  deserved  to  enjoy 
those  golden  ducats,  and  it  was  a  most  unkindly 
twist  of  fate  that  snuffed  his  candle  out»  He  was 
more  fortunate,  however,  than  most  shipwrecked 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        373 

seamen,  who  have  been  thankful  to  find  a  shirt  to 
their  backs  and  the  chance  to  sign  on  for  another 
voyage  when  they  set  foot  in  port  again.  Seven 
years  on  a  desert  island  was  a  long,  long  exile  for 
Peter  Serrano,  but  he  saw  home  much  sooner  than 
the  luckless  Dutchmen  of  the  Sparrow-hawk  who 
were  cast  away  on  an  island  off  the  coast  of  Korea 
in  the  year  of  1653.  Twelve  years  later  a  few  sur- 
vivors gazed  once  more  on  the  quays  and  docks  of 
Amsterdam,  but  meanwhile  they  were  making  his- 
tory. 

These  were  the  first  men  who  ever  carried  to 
Europe  a  description  of  the  hermit  kingdom  of 
Korea  and  its  queer,  slipshod  people  in  dirty  white 
clothes,  a  nation  sealed  up  as  tight  as  a  bottle  which 
had  drowsed  unchanged  through  a  thousand  years. 
Japan  was  not  wholly  barred  to  foreigners  even 
then,  for  the  Dutch  East  India  Company  was  per- 
mitted to  send  two  ships  a  year  to  Nagasaki  and  to 
maintain  a  trading  post  in  that  harbor.  It  was  a 
privilege  denied  all  other  nations,  and  for  two  cen- 
turies the  Dutch  enjoyed  this  singular  commercial 
monopoly. 

The  Koreans,  however,  refused  to  have  any  inter- 
course with  the  European  world,  and  seamen 
wrecked  on  that  coast  were  compelled  to  spend  the 
rest  of  their  lives  there  as  slaves  and  captives.  This 


374     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

was  why  the  story  told  by  Henry  Hamel,  the  purser 
of  the  Sparrow-hawk,  aroused  such  a  vast  amount 
of  interest  when  he  reappeared  with  seven  shipmates 
after  escaping  to  Japan. 

The  vessel  flew  the  flag  of  the  Dutch  East  India 
Company,  and  sailed  from  Batavia  with  a  crew  of 
sixty-four  men,  under  orders  to  drop  a  new  Dutch 
governor  at  the  island  of  Formosa.  This  castel- 
lated ark  of  a  seventeenth-century  merchantmen 
safely  completed  this  leg  of  her  voyage  and  was 
then  sent  to  Japan  to  pick  up  a  cargo  of  copper, 
silk,  cajnphor,  porcelain,  and  bronze.  The  winds 
drove  the  Sparrow-hawk  to  and  fro,  and  for  a  fort- 
night she  still  hobbled  and  rolled  within  sight  of 
Formosa.  Then  came  a  tempest  which  made  a 
wreck  of  her,  and  she  piled  upon  the  rocks  of  the 
Korean  island  of  Quelpert. 

The  governor  promptly  sent  soldiers  to  make 
prisoners  of  the  thirty-four  Dutchmen,  who  were 
treated  with  unexpected  kindness.  The  purser,  the 
pilot,  and  the  surgeon's  mate  were  given  an  audience 
by  this  island  ruler,  and  the  scene  included  a  ro- 
mantic surprise. 

Seated  beside  the  Korean  governor  of  this 
strange,  unknown  island  was  a.  man  of  a  florid  com- 
plexion who  wore  a  great  red  beard.  The  cast- 
aways stared  at  him  and  declared  that  he  was  a 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        375 

Dutchman,  which  the  governor  jestingly  denied; 
but  presently  the  red-bearded  one  broke  his  silence, 
and  the  tears'  ran  dpwn  his  cheeks  while  he  told  them 
that  his  name  was  Jan  Wettevri  of  the  town  of  Zyp, 
Holland. 

He  had  been  wrecked  on  the  Korean  coast  in  a 
Dutch  frigate  in  the  year  of  1626,  when  he  was  a 
young  man  of  thirty-one,  and  his  age  was  now  fifty- 
eight.  Twenty-seven  years,  had  he  been  held  in 
Korea,  and  no  word  respecting  the  fate  of  his  ship 
had  ever  gone  back  to  Holland.  Two  shipmates 
had  been  saved  with  him,  Theodore  Gerard  and  Jan 
Pieters,  but  they  were  long  since  dead.  Both  had 
been  killed  seventeen  years  before  this  while 
fighting  in  the  Korean  army  against  a  Tartar  inva- 
sion. 

Often  had  he  besought  the  King  of  Korea,  sighed 
this  red-bearded  sailor,  Jan  Wettevri,  that  he  might 
go  to  Japan  and  join  his  countrymen  at  Nagasaki, 

but  all  the  answer  he  could  get  from  that  prince  was  an 
assurance  that  he  should  never  go  excepting  he  had  wings 
to  fly  thither;  that  i.t  was  the  custom  of  the  country  to 
detain  all  strangers,  but  not  to  suffer  them  to  want  any- 
thing and  that  they  would  be  supplied  with  clothing  and 
food  during  their  lives. 

Jan  Wettevri  found  difficulty  in  speaking  his  own 
tongue  when  he  attempted  to  tell  his  story  to  these 


376     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

seamen  of  the  Sparrow-hawk,  for  in  seventeen  years 
he  had  heard  no  other  language  than  Korean. 

The  friendly  governor  of  Quelpert  was  succeeded 
by  an  unpleasant  old  tyrant  who  made  life  so  un- 
comfortable that  the  stubborn  Dutchmen  resolved  to 
escape  to  Japan,  sink  or  swim.  The  pilot  and  six 
sailors  stole  a  junk,  but  luck  was  against  them. 
The  rotten  mast  went  over  the  side  as  they  were  sail- 
ing out  to  sea,  and  so  they  were  carried  back  for 
punishment.  Their  hands  were  tied  to  a  heavy  log 
of  wood,  and  they  had  to  lie  in  a  row  flat  upon  their 
stomachs  while  a  sturdy  Korean  jailer  flailed  them 
with  a  heavy  cudgel,  twenty-five  blows  each  upon 
that  part  of  a  Dutchman's  back  where  his  baggy 
breeches  were  the  most  voluminous.  So  cruel  was 
this  chastisement  that  several  of  them  laid  a  month 
in  bed. 

So  long  as  they  were  content  to  submit  to  circum- 
stances, the  Koreans  were  inclined  to  treat  them 
with  a  certain  good  humor  and  toleration.  After 
several  months  they  were  conveyed  to 'the  mainland 
and  lodged  in  the  capital  city,  where  the  king  had 
his  palace.  He  enrolled  them  in  his  body-guard, 
and  they  received  wages  of  seventy  measures  of  rice 
per  month.  Armed  with  muskets,  they  drilled 
under  the  command  of  Jan  Wettevri.  Henry 
Hamel,  the  purser,  relates : 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        377 

Curiosity  induced  most  of  the  great  men  belonging  to 
the  court  to  invito  them  to  dinner,  that  they  might  enjoy 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  them  perform  the  military  ex- 
ercises and  dance  in  the  Dutch  manner.  The  women  and 
children  were  still  more  impatient  to  see  them,  a  report 
having  been  propagated  that  they  were  monsters  of  de- 
formity and  that  in  order  to  drink  they  were  obliged  to 
fasten  their  noses  behind  their  ears.  Their  astonishment, 
however,  was  so  much  the  greater  when  they  saw  that  they 
were  handsomer  and  much  more  stalwart  than  the  natives 
of  the  country.  The  whiteness  of  their  complexion  waa 
particularly  admired.  The  crowds  that  flocked  about 
them  were  so  great  that  during  the  first  days  they  could 
scarcely  pass  through  the  streets  or  enjoy  a  moment's 
rest  in  their  huts.  At  length,  the  general  was  obliged 
to  check  this  curiosity  by  forbidding  any  one  to  approach 
their  lodgings  without  his  permission, 

For  some  reason  the  Dutch  company  of  muske- 
teers was  mustered  out  of  this  service  after  a  year 
or  so,  and  they  were  more  or  less  turned  adrift  and 
scattered,  always  under  the  vigilant  eyes  of  pro- 
vincial governors  or  other  officials.  Sometimes  they 
loafed  and  again  they  worked  for  their  board  or 
begged  their  way  from  one  village  to  another,  and 
were  entertained  by  the  peasantry,  who  never  ceased 
to  wonder  at  them.  Once  an  ugly-tempered  gov- 
ernor refused  to  give  them  clothing  and  said  they 
might  starve  for  all  he  cared ;  but  the  account  was 
handsomely  squared,  for 


378     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

he  held  his  dignity  only  four  months,  and  being  accused 
of  having  condemned  to  death  several  persons  of  differ- 
ent ranks  on  insufficient  grounds,  he  was  sentenced  by  the 
king  to  receive  ninety  strokes  on  the  shin  bones  and  to  be 
banished  for  life. 

Towards  the  end  of  this  year  a  comet  appeared.  It 
was  followed  by  two  others  which  were  both  seen  at  once 
for  the  space  of  two  months,  one  in  the  southeast  and 
the  other  in  the  southwest,  but  with  their  tails  opposite  to 
each  other.  The  court  was  so  alarmed  by  this  phenom- 
enon that  the  king  ordered  the  guard  at  all  the  forts  and 
over  all  the  ships  to  be  doubled.  He  likewise  directed 
that  all  his  fortresses  should  be  well  supplied  with  warlike 
stores  and  provisions  and  that  his  troops  should  be  exer- 
cised every  day.  Such  were  his  apprehensions  of  being  at- 
ta,cked  by  some  neighbor  that  he  prohibited  a  fire  to  be 
made  during  the  night  in  any  house  that  could  be  per- 
ceived from  the  sea. 

The  same  phenomena  had  been  seen  when  the  Tartars 
ravaged  the  country,  and  it  was  recollected  that  similar 
signs  had  been  observed  previous  to  the  war  carried  on  by 
the  Japanese  against  Korea.  The  inhabitants  never  met 
the  Dutch  sailors  without  asking  them  what  people 
thought  of  comets  in  their  country.  Comformably  to  the 
idea  prevalent  in  Europe,  the  Dutch  replied  that  comets 
prognosticated  some  terrible  disaster,  as  pestilence,  war, 
or  famine,  and  sometimes  all  three  calamities  together. 

At  the  end  of  twelve  years  of  this  forlorn  exile, 
eight  of  the  crew  of  the  Sparrow-hawk  succeeded  in 
stealing  away  from  Korea  in  a  staunch  sea-going 
junk.  Eight  others  of  the  thirty-six  officers  and 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        379 

men  were  still  alive,  but  they  had  to  be  left  behind. 
With  some  rice,  a  few  jars  of  water,  and  an  iron  pot, 
the  fugitives  sailed  the  junk  to  the  coast  of  Japan, 
where  the  fishermen  directed  them  to  Nagasaki, 
where  Dutch  ships  were  at  anchor  in  the  bay.  The 
eight  Dutchmen  who  remained  in  Korea  were  never 
heard  of  again,  nor  was  any  word  received  of  Jan 
Wettevri,  now  seventy  years  old,  and  that  great  red 
beard  well  streaked  with  gray. 

When  a  sailor  kissed  his  wife  or  sweetheart 
good-by  in  those  rude,  adventurous  centuries,  the 
voyage  was  likely  to  be  darkened  by  these  tragedies 
of  enforced  exile,  which  were  ever  so  much  worse 
than  shipwreck.  Quite  typical  of  its  era  was  the 
fate  of  the  crew  of  the  English  privateer  Inspector 
when  foul  weather  set  her  ashore  near  Tangier  in 
the  year  of  1746.  Incidentally,  the  narrative  of  the 
experience  of  these  eighty-seven  survivors  conveys 
certain  vivid  impressions  of  an  Emperor  of  Mo- 
rocco, Zin  el  Abdin,  and  of  his  amazing  contempt 
for  the  Christian  powers  of  Europe  and  their  supine 
submission  to  his  ruthless  dictates.  This  was  in 
accordance  with  the  attitude  of  centuries,  during 
which  the  treatment  of  foreign  envoys  in  Morocco 
was  profoundly  humiliating,  and  the  gifts  they 
brought  were  regarded  in  the  light  of  tribute.  In- 
deed, it  was  not  until  1900  that  the  custom  of 


380     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

mounted  sultans  under  umbrellas  receiving  ambas- 
sadors on  foot  and  bareheaded  was  abolished. 

While  from  the  European  point  of  view  the 
pirates  of  the  Barbary  coast  were  a  bloodthirsty  set 
of  robbers,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Moors  they  were  re- 
ligious warriors  for  the  faith  who  had  volunteered 
to  punish  the  Nazarenes  for  rejecting  Mohammed, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  realize  the  honor  in  which  their 
memory  is  held  save  by  comparison  with  that  of  the 
Crusaders,  in  which  the  positions  were  exactly  re- 
versed. The  varying  influences  of  the  different 
European  states  could  be  gaged  at  first  by  the  prices 
they  were  compelled  to  pay  to  ransom  their  captive 
subjects  and  later  by  the  annual  tribute  which  they 
were  willing  to  present  to  protect  their  vessels. 
Some  countries  continued  the  payment  well  into  the 
nineteenth  century,  although  the  slavery  of  Chris- 
tians in  Morocco  had  been  abolished  by  treaty  in 
1814. 

The  privateer  Inspector,  commanded  by  Captain 
Richard  Veale,  sailed  from  the  Downs  on  a  cruise 
with  two  hundred  and  five  hands.  After  taking 
two  prizes  she  entered  the  Strait  of  Gibraltar,  where 
a  brisk  gale  of  wind  opened  her  seams,  and  it  was  a 
case  of  founder  or  run  for  the  nearest  beach.  A 
treaty  which  had  been  signed  by  the  Emperor  of 
Morocco  and  the  British  Government  inspired  the 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        381 

hope  of  a  humane  reception  in  Tangier.  More  than 
a  hundred  of  the  privateersmen  were  drowned  when 
the  Inspector  drove  against  the  rocky  coast,  and  the 
rest  of  them,  wounded,  half -naked,  and  exhausted, 
were  discovered  by  the  Moors,  who  threw  them  into 
a  loathsome  jail  of  Tangier. 

The  British  consul,  Mr.  Pettigrew,  arrived  from 
Gibraltar  in  H.  M.  S.  Phoenix  a  few  days  later,  and 
opened  negotiations  which  resulted  in  the  release  of 
the  captain,  his  three  lieutenants,  and  the  officer  of 
marines.  As  for  the  others,  the  consul  was  tartly 
informed  that  they  could  rot  in  slavery  until  the 
British  Government  discharged  an  old  debt  claimed 
by  the  Emperor  of  Morocco  for  captives  redeemed 
seventeen  years  before. 

While  in  prison  the  wretched  seamen  were  left 
without  food  for  three  days  on  end,  and  to  their 
piteous  plea  the  governor  of  Tangier  sent  word: 

"If  the  unbelieving  dogs  are  hungry,  let  them  eat 
the  stones/' 

When  they  desperately  attempted  to  escape,  iron 
chains  were  locked  about  their  necks,  and  twenty  of 
them  were  thrown  into  a  black  hole  of  a  dungeon 
where  hunger  almost  drove  them  to  casting  lots  and 
eating  one  of  their  number.  Two  sheep  were 
thrown  to  them,  however,  which  they  instantly  de- 
voured raw.  After  five  months  of  this  existence,  in 


382     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

which  they  were  more  dead  than  alive,  an  order 
came  to  carry  them  to  Bufcoran,  two  hundred  miles 
distant,  where  the  emperor  was  encamped. 

This  haughty  potentate  rode  out  to  look  them 
over,  and  it  was  his  pleasure  that  they  should  be 
confined  in  a  castle  nearby.  It  pleased  them 
greatly  when,  after  a  little  while,  the  same  governor 
of  Tangier  who  had  abused  them  so  frightfully  was 
dragged  into  the  castle,  along  with  his  household  of 
officials,  and  they  wore  iron  collars  locked  about 
their  necks.  There  was  such  a  thing  as  righteous 
retribution  even  in  those  parlous  days.  The  em- 
peror was  building  a  splendid  new  castle,  and  the 
British  privateersmen  were  set  at  work  with  pick- 
axes to  dig  the  wall  foundations.  Remorselessly 
driven  until  they  dropped,  twenty  of  them  abjured 
Christianity  to  find  a  respite  from  their  torments. 

The  emperor  was  not  too  busy  with  his  new  castle 
to  attend  to  matters  of  state,  such  as  punishing  the 
disgraced  governor  of  Tangier  and  sundry  other 
subjects  who  had  misbehaved  themselves  in  one  way 
or  another.  Sailormen  were  accustomed  to  strange 
sights  and  wonderful  experiences  in  that  age  of  sea- 
faring, but  few  of  them  beheld  such  a  drama  as  was 
enacted  before  the  eyes  of  the  survivors  of  the  In- 
spector as  they  glanced  up  from  their  sweating  toil 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        383 

amid  the  stones  and  mortar.     One  of  them  described 
it  in  these  words : 

The  emperor  came  to  the  place  where  the  governor  of 
Tangier  and  his  miserable  companions  had  lain  five  days 
in  chains  on  the  bare  ground  without  the  smallest  allow- 
ance of  provisions.  Having  viewed  these  unfortunate 
wretches,  the  emperor  withdrew  about  sixty  paces  from 
the  castle  towards  his  camp  where  he  gave  orders  that  they 
should  all  be  brought  out  before  him.  When  they  were 
arranged  in  the  form  required,  the  governor,  three  sons  of 
the  late  bashaw,  and  another  principal  inhabitant  of  Tan- 
gier were  unchained  and  set  apart  from  the  rest. 

Then  with  all  possible  serenity  the  emperor  desired  his 
armor-bearer  to  bring  him  his  scimetar.  He  drew  it  from 
the  scabbard  with  a  countenance  as  composed  as  if  he  had 
been  going  to  exercise  a  body  of  troops.  One  of  the  de- 
linquents was  next  commanded  to  be  loosened  from  his 
chains  and  brought  before  him.  The  unhappy  man, 
aware  of  his  approaching  fate,  fell  prostrate,  and  with 
tears  implored  mercy.  All  entreaties  were  vain,  for  the 
emperor  without  regarding  them,  exclaimed  "In  the  name 
of  God"  and  with  one  blow  struck  off  his  head.  This 
done,  he  returned  his  scimetar  to  the  armor-bearer  with 
orders  for  him  and  his  assistants  to  follow  the  same  ex- 
ample and  retiring  a  short  way  off,  stood  to  see  his  orders 
executed.  In  this  manner  were  no  leg's  than  three  hundred 
and  thirty  victims  massacred  to  glut  his  diabolical  ven- 
geance. 

The  governor  of  Tangier,  the  three  sons  of  the  late 
bashaw,  and  the  other  person,  who  were  freed  of  their 
chains  to  be  spectators  of  the  slaughter,  were  petrified 


384     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

with  horror  at  the  sight  and  full  of  apprehension  that 
they  were  reserved  for  sufferings  more  severe.  At  length, 
the  emperor  approaching  them  warned  them  of  the  spec- 
tacle they  beheld,  and  advised  them  to  take  care  that  his 
affairs  be  properly  administered  at  Tangier  in  future. 

By  this  means  he  intended  to  extort  a  sum  of  money 
from  their  friends,  but  as  this  did  not  follow  according  to 
his  expectations  he  summoned  them  once  more  before  him 
and  gave  orders  for  their  immediate  execution.  He  had 
previously  told  them,  however,  that  having  promised  they 
should  not  die  by  the  sword,  they  should  all  suffer  by  the 
bow-string.  Hereupon  two  of  his  guards  were  selected 
who  were  employed  to  strangle  them,  one  after  another; 
which  they  did  with  all  imaginable  deliberation,  in  obed- 
ience to  the  orders  of  the  emperor  to  take  a  moderate  time 
in  the  executions  for  the  sake  of  his  own  enjoyment.  And 
notwithstanding  the  small  number  of  victims,  it  occupied 
two  hours. 

The  British  sailors  confessed  that  such  barbarity 
made  them  tremble,  and  all  that  sustained  their 
hopes  was  the  rumor  of  the  expected  arrival  of  an 
ambassador  from  England,  The  consul  could  do 
nothing  for  them,  Mr.  Kilbs,  the  sailing-master  of 
the  Inspector,  fainted  at  his  work  while  the  emperor 
was  inspecting  the  building.  The  despot  of  Mo- 
rocco inquired  why  the  overseers  permitted  such 
indolence,  but  when  the  case  was  explained  and  he 
saw  that  the  mariner  was  in  the  agonies  of  death,  he 
was  kind  enough  to  order  him  carried  into  the  castle, 
where  he  soon  expired.  In  this  instance  there  was 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        385 

no  touch  of  the  whimsical  humor  displayed  when 
two  superannuated  Moorish  soldiers  toppled  over 
with  exhaustion.  The  emperor  cursed  them  most 
heartily,  at  which  the  two  old  men  in  tremulous  ac- 
cents entreated  him  to  pity  their  infirmities  and 
grant  them  charity  during  the  few  years  of  life 
left  to  them,  reminding  the  emperor  of  their  eight- 
een years  of  service  in  the  army.  To  this  plea 
their  ruler  amiably  replied  that  he  could  perceive 
their  inability  to  labor  any  longer  and  it  was  there- 
fore his  duty  to  protect  them  against  the  evils  of 
old  age  and  poverty.  He  therefore  graciously  or- 
dered that  they  both  be  shot  through  the  head  with- 
out more  ado. 

After  a  year  of  captivity,  the  sailors  were  taken 
to  Fez  to  toil  on  another  pretentious  fortress. 
Their  keepers  abused  them  without  mercy,  and  a 
midshipman  of  the  privateer,  Mr.  Nelson,  took  his 
life  in  his  hands  and  complained  to  the  emperor. 
Such  boldness  won  the  tyrant's  favor,  and  he  asked 
what  the  grievances  were.  The  midshipman 
showed  a  heavy  stick  of  wood  with  which  one  of  the 
keepers  had  beaten  the  men  of  the  Inspector  because 
they  sang  some  songs  during  the  night  to  keep  their 
spirits  up. 

"Fetch  me  four  sticks  of  that  same  size,  and  let 
them  be  good  ones,"  commanded  his  Majesty  Zin 


386     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

el  Adbin.     "Also  drag  that  wicked  keeper  before 


me." 


The  whole  company  of  British  seamen  was  also 
ordered  into  the  royal  presence,  and  four  of  the  most 
stalwart  were  selected  and  told  to  take  the  sticks 
and  break  them  on  the  keeper's  bones.  The  victim 
was  stretched  on  the  ground,  and  the  incensed  mar- 
iners flogged  him  with  great  enthusiasm  while  the 
emperor  encouraged  them  to  make  a  thorough  job 
of  it  or  have  their  own  bones  broken.  The  guards 
carted  away  what  was  left  of  the  keeper,  and  he 
died  an  hour  later. 

From  Fez  the  captives  were  carried  to  Tetuan  to 
await  tidings  from  the  British  ambassador  to  Mo- 
rocco, who  was  striving  to  obtain  their  release.  At 
parting  with  their  black  overseer,  he  made  the  logi- 
cal remark : 

"Now  I  have  no  more  to  do  with  you;  and  if  ever 
you  catch  me  in  your  country,  I  expect  no  better 
usage  than  you  have  had  here." 

The  negotiations  moved  haltingly  while  the  sail- 
ors waited  in  prison  in  Tetuan.  After  a  long  delay 
enough  money  was  received  from  Gibraltar  to  re- 
deem twenty-five  of  them,  who  were  selected  by  the 
governor  of  the  city,  "who  dismissed  them  with 
wishes  for  a  happy  voyage."  Three  weeks  after- 
ward the  balance  of  the  cash  came  to  Tetuan,  but 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        387 

the  emperor  put  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  by  refusing  to 
let  the  privateersmen  go  until  that  matter  of  the  old 
debt  was  canceled.  The  British  ambassador  sent  a 
naval  officer  to  England  for  more  money,  and  there 
was  another  delay,  which  annoyed  the  Moorish  gov- 
ernor of  Tetuan.  A  squadron  of  British  men-of- 
war,  under  Commodore  Keppel,  rode  at  anchor  in 
the  harbor,  but  their  guns  were  silent  while  the  am- 
bassador was  arrested,  his  property  seized,  and  his 
secretary  thrown  into  a  dungeon  pit  twenty  feet 
deep,  where  the  playful  Moors  dropped  dead  cats 
and  dogs  and  stones  on  him.  It  could  scarcely  be 
said  that  Britannia  rules  the  waves  that  washed  the 
shores  of  Morocco. 

Commodore  Keppel  pledged  his  word  that  the 
old  account  should  be  squared,  although  it  was  well 
known  that  the  British  Government  had  already 
paid  it  once,  and  the  ambassador  gave  a  promissory 
note  for  the  whole  amount.  Finally  the  claims  were 
settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Emperor  of  Mo- 
rocco, and  the  survivors  of  the  privateer  were  put 
aboard  H.  M.  S.  Sea-Horse.  "They  ran  into  the 
water  as  deep  as  the  waist,  each  thinking  himself 
happiest  that  he  could  get  in  the  boat  first." 

Fifty-seven  of  them  had  lived  to  gain  their  free- 
dom after  four  years  of  slavery.  Their  sad  story 
ended  more  happily  than  might  have  been  expected. 


388     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

for  when  they  returned  to  England  the  king  was 
pleased  to  give  them  a  bounty  of  five  pounds  each. 

The  Jews  in  London  supplied  them  with  clothing  and 
showed  them  many  acts  of  kindness.  Mr.  Rich,  manager 
of  one  of  the  principal  theatres,  presented  each  men  with 
five  pounds  and  devoted  the  proceeds  of  a  night's  per- 
formance to  their  use.  The  proprietor  of  another  public 
exhibition  did  the  like,  on  which  occasion  they  appeared  in 
iron  chains  and  collars  such  as  they  had  worn  in  slavery. 

The  privateersman  of  the  Inspector  who  wrote 
the  narrative  of  the  adventures  and  miseries  in  Mo- 
rocco was  a  hardy  salt,  if  ever  there  was  one.  Un- 
harmed by  the  experience,  this  Thomas  Troughton 
lived  until  1806,  and  died  at  the  uncommonly  ripe 
old  age  of  one  hundred  and  fourteen  years. 

It  seems  proper  that  one  of  these  true  tales  of 
luckless  seamen  long  in  exile  should  have  for  its 
hero  a  mariner  of  that  rugged  New  England,  the 
early  fortitude  and  daring  of  which  laid  the  en- 
during foundations  of  this  nation.  In  the  year  of 
1676  Mr.  Ephraim  How  of  New  Haven  found  it 
necessary  to  undertake  a  journey  to  Boston.  Ex- 
press-trains were  not  then  covering  the  distance  be- 
tween these  cities  in  four  hours.  In  fact,  there 
were  not  even  post-roads  or  stage-coaches,  and  the 
risk  of  being  potted  by  hostile  Indians  was  by  no 
means  negligible.  To  the  Pilgrims  and  the  Puri- 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        389 

tans  of  that  era  the  country  was  still  a  wilderness 
almost  as  soon  as  they  ventured  inland  beyond  the 
sound  of  the  sea. 

As  was  common  enough,  Mr.  Ephraim  How  had 
a  vessel  of  his  own  to  carry  the  cargoes  which,  as  a 
merchant,  he  sold  to  his  neighbors  of  the  New 
Haven  colony.  They  were  a  web-footed  race  of 
pioneers  who  traded  and  farmed  and  sailed  or  fished 
to  earn  a  thrifty  dollar.  For  his  business  trip  to 
Boston  Mr.  How  sensibly  went  by  sea  as  an  easier 
and  quicker  route  than  by  land.  With  him  in  his 
small  ketch  of  seventeen  tons  went  his  two  sons  as 
sailors,  another  youth  named  Caleb  Jones,  whose 
father  was  a  magistrate  in  New  Haven,  a  Mr. 
Augur,  who  was  a  passenger,  and  a  boy,  unnamed, 
who  probably  cooked  the  pork  and  potatoes  and 
scrubbed  the  pots  in  the  galley.  It  was  in  the 
month  of  August,  and  the  ketch  made  a  pleasant 
voyage  of  it  around  Cape  Cod  and  into  Boston  Bay. 

Illness,  contrary  winds,  and  business  delays  post- 
poned the  return  journey  until  October,  and  they 
made  sail  with  every  expectation  of  a  good  passage. 
Off  Cape  Cod  one  heavy  gale  after  another  drove 
the  ketch  far  offshore.  The  experience  must  have 
been  terribly  severe,  for  after  eleven  days  of  it  the 
eldest  son  died,  and  the  other  son  died  soon  after. 
It  was  too  much  for  young  Caleb  Jones  also,  and  he 


890     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

followed  the  others  over  the  side,  stitched  up  in  a 
piece  of  canvas.  Poor  Ephraim  How  had  lost  his 
crew  as  by  a  visitation  of  God,  and  it  seems  as 
though  some  contagious  disease  must  have  ravaged 
the  little  ketch.  The  passenger,  Mr.  Augur,  was 
no  sailor  at  all,  and  Mr.  How  lashed  himself  to  the 
helm  for  thirty-six  hours  at  a  stretch. 

In  this  situation  the  two  men  cast  lots  whether  to 
try  to  struggle  back  to  the  New  England  coast  or  to 
bear  away  with  the.  wind  and  hope  to  reach  the  West 
Indies.  The  gambler's  choice  decreed  New  Eng- 
land, but  the  weather  decided  otherwise.  For  more 
than  two  months  the  distressed  ketch  tossed  about 
and  drifted,  and  was  beaten  to  and  fro  without  a 
glimpse  of  landfall.  It  was  late  in  November  when 
she  was  wrecked  on  a  ledge  of  rock,  but  Ephraim 
How  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  where  it  was. 
He  later  learned  that  he  had  driven  as  far  to 
the  eastward  as  Nova  Scotia,  and  the  ketch  had 
smashed  herself  upon  a  desolate  island  near  Cape 
Sable.  For  Ephraim  How  it  was  a  long,  long  way 
from  Boston  to  New  Haven. 

Cape  Sable  in  the  winter  time  is  even  now  a 
wicked  refuge  for  shipwrecked  mariners.  Fortu- 
nately, there  drifted  ashore  from  the  ketch  the  fol- 
lowing list  of  essentials: 

"A  cask  of  gunpowder,  which  received  no  damage 


SEAMEN  LONG  IN  EXILE        391 

from  the  water;  a  barrel  of  wine,  half  a  barrel  of 
molasses,  several  useful  articles  towards  building  a 
tent ;  besides  which  they  had  firearms  and  shot,  a  pot 
for  boiling,  and  most  probably  other  things  not  men- 
tioned." 

Ephraim  How,  Mr.  Augur,  and  the  cabin  boy 
prepared  to  make  a  winter  of  it  in  their  flimsy  shel- 
ter of  a  canvas  tent  amid  the  rocks  and  snow-drifts. 
They  shot  crows,  ravens,  and  sea-gulls,  and  warded 
off  starvation  with  an  uncomplaining  heroism  which 
expressed  itself  in  these  words : 

"Once  they  lived  five  days  without  any  sustenance 
but  did  not  feel  themselves  pinched  with  hunger  at 
other  times,  which  they  esteemed  a  special  favor  of 
heaven  unto  them." 

The  dear  friend  and  companion,  Mr.  Augur,  died 
after  three  months  of  this  ordeal,  and  the  cabin  boy 
lived  until  the  middle  of  February.  Thereafter 
Ephraim  How  was  a  solitary  castaway.  He  some- 
how survived  the  winter,  and  notched  a  stick  to  keep 
the  tally  of  the  days  and  weeks  as  they  brought  the 
milder  airs  of  spring.  Fishing-vessels  may  have 
sighted  his  signals,  but  they  passed  unheeding, 
afraid  of  some  Indian  strategem  to  lure  them  in- 
shore. 

Ephraim  How  had  been  three  months  alone,  and 
seven  months  on  this  island  near  Cape  Sable,  when 


392     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

a  trading-brig  of  Salem  stood  in  to  investigate  the 
smoke  of  his  fire,  and  mercifully  rescued  him  from 
exile.  On  the  eighteenth  of  July,  1677,  he  arrived 
in  Salem  port,  and  then  made  his  way  home  to  New 
Haven.  He  had  been  absent  a  whole  year  on  that 
journey  to  Boston,  which  the  modern  traveler  makes 
in  a  few  hours  with  magical  ease  and  luxury. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   NOBLE   KING  OF  THE   PELEW   ISLANDS 

MANY  kinds  of  ships  and  men  have  endured 
the  eternal  enmity  of  the  sea,  as  these  true 
tales  have  depicted,  but  there  is  one  episode  of  dis- 
aster which  might  be  called  the  pattern  and  the 
proper  example  for  all  mariners  cast  away  on  un- 
known shores.  It  reveals  the  virtues  and  not  the 
vices  of  mankind  in  time  of  stress,  and  saves  from 
oblivion  the  portrait  of  a  dusky  monarch  so  wise 
and  just  and  kind  that  he  could  teach  civilization 
much  more  than  he  could  learn  from  it.  No  white 
men  had  ever  set  foot  in  his  island  realm  until  he 
welcomed  this  shipwrecked  crew,  and  the  source  of 
his  precepts  and  ideals  was  that  inner  light  which 
had  been  peculiarly  vouchsafed  him.  Naked  and 
tattooed,  he  was  not  only  a  noble  ruler  of  his  people, 
but  also  a  very  perfect  gentleman. 

The  packet  Antelope,  in  the  service  of  the  East 
India  Company,  sailed  from  Macao  in  July,  1783, 
and  was  driven  ashore  in  a  black  squall  on  one  of  the 
Pelew  Islands  three  weeks  later.  All  of  the  people 

393 


394     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

were  able  to  get  away  from  the  wreck  in  the  boats, 
but  they  made  for  the  beach  with  the  most  gloomy 
forebodings.  The  Pelews,  a  westerly  group  of  the 
Caroline  Islands,  in  the  Pacific,  had  been  sighted  by 
the  Spanish  admiral,  Ruy  Lopez  de  Villalobos,  as 
'early  as  1543,  but  no  ship  had  ever  touched  there, 
and  the  only  report,  which  was  gleaned  by  hearsay 
from  other  islanders,  declared  that  "the  natives  were 
unhuman  and  savage,  that  both  men  and  women 
were  entirely  naked  and  fed  upon  human  flesh,  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Carolines  looked  on  them  with 
horror  as  the  enemies  of  mankind  and  with  whom 
•they  held  it  dangerous  to  have  any  intercourse." 

Captain  Henry  Wilson  of  the  Antelope  was  an 
exceptional  commander,  with  a  reliable  crew  which 
cheerfully  obeyed  him.  While  the  ship  was  in  the 
breakers  and  death  seemed  imminent,  it  is  recorded 
that 

they  endeavored  to  console  and  cheer  one  another  and 
each  was  advised  to  clothe  and  prepare  himself  to  quit  the 
ship,  and  herein  the  utmost  good  order  and  regularity  was 
observed,  not  a  man  offering  to  take  anything  but  what 
truly  belonged  to  himself,  nor  did  any  one  of  them  attempt 
to  take  a  dram  or  complain  of  negligence  or  misconduct 
against  the  watch  or  any  particular  person. 

A  raft  was  built  to  carry  the  stores  and  supplies, 
and  sent  off  in  tow  of  the  pinnace  and  the  jolly-boat. 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS    395 

The  ship  was  fast  grinding  to  pieces,  but  there  was 
no  confusion,  and  the  carpenter  was  so  intent  on  get- 
ting his  kit  of  tools  together  that  he  would  have  been 
left  behind  if  the  captain  had  not  searched  for  him. 
A  landing  was  made  in  a  sandy  cove,  and  no  natives 
were  discovered.  Tents  were  rigged  of  sail-cloth, 
fires  built,  the  arms  cleaned  and  dried,  and  sentries 
posted  for  the  night.  One  might  have  supposed 
that  this  efficient  ship's  company  was  in  the  habit 
of  being  shipwrecked. 

Two  canoes  came  paddling  into  the  cove  next 
day,  and  Captain  Wilson  went  down  to  meet  the 
islanders.  Luckily,  he  had  with  him  a  sailor  named 
Tom  Rose  who  could  talk  one  or  two  Malay  dialects, 
and  he  managed  to  struggle  along  as  an  interpreter 
for  the  reason  that  a  native  in  one  of  the  canoes 
could  also  speak  the  Malay  tongue. 

To  questions  Tom  Rose  answered  that  these  were 
unfortunate  Englishmen  who  had  lost  their  ship 
upon  the  reef  and  wished  to  be  friends.  Unafraid 
and  cordially  disposed,  eight  islanders  left  the  ca- 
noes and  accepted  Captain  Wilson's  invitation  to 
breakfast.  Two  of  the  guests  were  found  to  be 
brothers  of  the  king.  They  tasted  tea  and  biscuit 
for  the  first  time,  and  were  introduced  to  the  officers, 
with  whom  they  shook  hands,  having  quickly  noted 
that  this  was  the  accepted  manner  of  greeting. 


396     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

These  Englishmen,  mysterious  and  unknown,  were 
beings  from  another  world,  and  the  guests  displayed 
lively  astonishment,  but  no  uneasiness. 

It  was  agreed  that  Mr.  Matthias  Wilson,  the  cap- 
tain's brother,  should  go  to  the  near-by  island  of 
Pelew,  or  Coorooraa,  to  meet  the  king  in  formal  au- 
dience and  solicit  his  friendship.  One  canoe  and 
three  men  remained  at  the  sailors'  camp.  One  of 
them  was  the  king's  brother,  Raa  Kook,  commander 
of  the  military  forces.  These  islanders  were  en- 
tirely naked,  their  brown  skins  glistening  with 
cocoanut-oil,  their  long  hair  neatly  done  up  in  a 
roll  behind. 

While  Mr.  Matthias  Wilson  was  absent  on  his 
mission,  the  crew  of  the  Antelope  went  off  to  the 
wreck  in  quest  of  salvage.  It  was  discovered 
that  natives  had  rummaged  the  cabin  and  sampled 
the  bottles  in  the  medicine-chest.  Here  one  begins 
to  discern  the  ethical  code  of  these  most  primitive 
savages. 

Captain  Wilson  made  this  transaction  known  to  Raa 
Kook,  not  so  much  as  a  matter  of  complaint  as  to  express 
to  him  his  uneasiness  for  the  consequences  which  might 
arise  to  the  natives  from  their  drinking  such  a  variety  of 
medicines.  Raa  Kook  begged  that  Captain  Wilson  would 
entertain  no  anxiety  whatever  on  their  account;  that  if 
they  suffered  it  would  be  entirely  owing  to  their  own  mis- 
conduct, for  which  he  said  he  felt  himself  truly  concerned. 


KIXG  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     397 

His  countenance  fully  described  the  indignation  he  felt  at 
the  treacherous  behavior  of  his  own  men  and  he  asked  why 
our  people  did  not  shoot  them?  He  begged  that  if  they 
or  any  others  should  dare  again  to  attempt  to  plunder  the 
vessel  they  would  be  shot  at  once  and  he  should  take  it 
upon  himself  to  justify  the  punishment  to  the  king. 


The  only  ornament  worn  by  Raa  Kook  was  a  pol- 
ished bracelet  of  bone,  which  he  explained  to  be  a 
mark  of  high  distinction,  conferred  by  the  king  upon 
his  own  family,  officers  of  state,  and  military  men  of 
commanding  rank.  It  was  readily  perceived  that 
such  a  decoration  had  precisely  the  same  significance 
as  the  ribbon  of  the  order  of  the  Bath  or  the  Garter 
as  conferred  by  English  royalty. 

All  of  which  is  no  more  extraordinary  than  the 
exemplary  behavior  of  the  crew  of  the  Antelope. 
Captain  Wilson  called  his  officers  together  and  sug- 
gested that  no  more  liquor  be  drunk  in  camp.  It 
made  the  men  quarrelsome,  interfered  with  their 
work,  and  was  likely  to  cause  trouble  with  the  na- 
tives. The  officers  approved,  and  the  boatswain 
called  all  hands  next  morning  to  hear  the  verdict. 
The  seamen  agreed  to  go  without  their  grog,  and 
offered  to  go  on  board  the  wreck  and  stave  in  every 
cask  of  spirits  that  could  be  found.  This  they  scru- 
pulously did,  and  it  is  a  fair  comment  that  "circum- 
stanced as  these  poor  fellows  were,  nothing  but  a 


398     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

long  and  well-trained  discipline  and  the  real  affec- 
tion they  bore  their  commander  could  have  produced 
the  fortitude  and  firmness  which  they  testified  on 
this  occasion." 

After  a  few  days  a  canoe  returned  from  Pelew 
Island  with  a  son  of  the  king  as  messenger.  He 
brought  word  that  his  Majesty  Abba  Thulle  bade 
the  Englishmen  welcome  to  his  country,  that  they 
had  his  full  permission  to  build  a  vessel  on  the  island 
where  they  then  were,  or  that  they  might  remove  to 
the  island  on  which  he  lived  and  enjoy  his  personal 
protection.  Mr.  Matthias  Wilson  would  soon  re- 
turn to  the  camp  and  had  greatly  enjoyed  his  visit. 

When  at  length  the  king  himself  arrived  in  state 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Captain  Wilson  and  his 
company,  he  came  with  squadrons  of  canoes  filled 
with  armed  men  who  blew  sonorous  salutes  on  conch- 
shells.  Upon  a  stage  in  a  larger  canoe,  or  royal 
barge,  sat  King  Abba  Thulle,  and  the  English  com- 
mander was  carried  through  the  surf  to  meet  him. 
These  were  two  courtiers,  the  dignified  shipmaster 
and  the  Micronesian  savage,  and  after  expressions 
of  mutual  esteem  the  king  explained  that  this  island 
was  held  to  be  sickly  and  subject  to  attack  by  hostile 
clans.  For  this  reason  he  felt  anxious  for  the  wel- 
fare of  the  visitors.  Captain  Wilson  answered  that 
the  shore  was  admirably  suited  for  building  and 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS    399 

launching  a  small  vessel  and  his  men  were  well 
drilled  and  armed.  And  his  surgeon  would  keep  an 
eye  on  their  health. 

Landing  at  the  camp,  King  Abba  Thulle  was 
escorted  by  his  chiefs  and  three  hundred  bronzed 
fighting  men.  He  wore  no  clothing  and  carried  on 
his  shoulder  a  hatchet  which  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of 
scepter.  A  man  of  uncommon  force  and  intelli- 
gence, a  king  in  deed  as  well  as  najne,  this  was  to  be 
read  at  a  glance.  It  was  his  surmise  that  Captain 
Wilson,  attended  by  his  officers  and  armed  sailors, 
must  be  a  prince  in  his  own  country,  but  this  error 
the  modest  commander  was  at  pains  to  correct. 
Musketry  drill  and  the  discharge  of  the  pieces 
astounded  Abba  Thulle,  as  did  also  the  clothing  and 
implements  of  these  strangers,  and  the  narrative  of 
the  shipwreck  sagaciously  comments : 

The  king  remained  awhile  pensive  and  bewildered,  and 
this  circumstance  impressed  on  every  one  the  idea  that 
there  was  every  cause  to  suppose  that  there  had  never  been 
a  communication  between  these  people  and  any  other  na- 
tion, that  they  and  their  ancestry  through  ages  too  remote 
for  human  conjecture,  might  have  lived  as  sovereigns  of 
the  world,  unconscious  that  it  extended  beyond  the  hor- 
izon which  bounded  them,  unconscious  also  that  there  were 
any  other  inhabitants  in  it  than  themselves.  And  in  this 
case,  what  might  not  be  the  sentiments  that  burst  on  a 
mind  thus  suddenly  awakened  to  a  new  and  more  enlarged 
notion  of  nature  and  mankind? 


400     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

King  Abbe  Thulle  was  not  a  man  to  ask  for  gifts, 
but  was  anxious  to  bestow  favors.  He  offered  to 
send  some  of  his  own  craftsmen  to  help  build  a  ves- 
sel and  to  provide  such  native  food  as  might  lend 
variety  to  the  ship's  stores.  One  thing  only  he  de- 
sired. He  was  about  to  wage  war  against  the  re- 
bellious people  of  an  island  which  had  done  him 
grave  injury,  and  it  would  be  of  great  advantage  if 
Captain  Wilson  would  permit  four  or  five  of  his  men 
to  go  along  with  their  muskets.  The  whole  crew 
volunteered  for  this  sporting  adventure,  but  four 
young  single  men  were  chosen,  with  the  third  mate, 
Mr.  Cummings,  in  charge.  Wearing  blue  jackets 
and  cocked  hats  with  light  blue  cockades,  they  sailed 
blithely  away  with  the  army  of  the  king. 

Meanwhile  the  crew  had  begun  work  on  a  small 
schooner  after  electing  Captain  Wilson  as  their  su- 
perior officer,  the  narrative  explaining  that  "as 
every  reader  may  not  be  acquainted  with  maritime 
proceedings,  to  such  it  will  not  be  improper  to 
remark  that  when  a  merchant  ship  is  wrecked  all 
authority  immediately  ceases,  and  every  individual 
is  at  full  liberty  to  shift  for  himself."  It  was  faith- 
fully promised  that  in  all  things  the  men  would  obey 
Captain  Wilson  as  when  the  Antelope  had  been 
afloat. 

The  second  officer,  Mr.  Barker,  had  been  a  ship- 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     401 

wright  in  his  youth,  and  he  aided  the  carpenter  in 
laying  out  the  work.  The  tasks  were  methodically 
distributed,  Mr.  Matthias  Wilson,  Surgeon  Sharp, 
and  Captain  Wilson  sawing  down  trees,  the  boat- 
swain in  charge  of  the  blacksmith  shop,  the  gunner 
acting  as  chief  of  police,  and  a  number  of  Chinese 
coolie  passengers  fetching  water,  hauling  timbers, 
and  running  a  laundry.  Most  of  the  sailors  were 
employed  in  the  carpenter's  gang.  A  stout  stock- 
ade was  built  around  the  little  shipyard  and  two 
swivel-guns  were  mounted  against  a  possible  attack 
from  seaward.  From  the  wreck  of  the  Antelope 
the  boats  brought  cordage,  oakum,  iron,  and  copper, 
planking  and  timbers.  It  was  an  orderly  bit  of  Old 
England  transplanted  to  the  remote  and  barbarous 
Pelew  Island.  And  of  course  Captain  Wilson  read 
prayers  to  the  assembled  crew  every  Sunday  even- 
ing. 

The  schooner's  keel  had  been  laid  and  the  stem 
and  stern-post  bolted  on,  with  the  frames  taking 
shape  in  the  busy  yard,  when  the  five  bold  sailormen 
came  back  from  the  war  with  a  tale  of  victory  won 
over  the  forces  of  the  King  of  Artingall.  Their 
own  sovereign,  Abba  Thulle,  and  his  commander- 
in-chief,  Raa  Kook,  had  mustered  a  hundred  and 
fifty  canoes  and  a  thousand  men  armed  with  spears 
and  darts,  which  they  handled  with  amazing  skill. 


402     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

The  enemy  had  fled  after  a  spirited  skirmish  in 
,vhich  musketry-fire  made  a  complete  rout  of  it.  At 
Pelew  the  victors  had  delayed  for  feasting  and 
dancer,  and  the  English  seamen  volunteers  seemed 
highly  pleased  with  the  soldier's  life.  They  cheer- 
fully set  about  their  allotted  tasks  in  the  shipyard, 
however,  and  doffed  the  blue  jackets  and  cocked 
hats. 

In  token  of  their  service,  Abba  Thulle  formally 
presented  to  the  English  party  this  island  of  Oroo- 
long  on  which  they  dwelt,  and  in  the  native  language 
it  was  rechristened  "Englishman's  Land."  Cap- 
tain Wilson  thereupon  ran  up  the  British  ensign, 
and  three  volleys  of  small  arms  were  fired.  By  way 
of  entertainment,  one  of  the  king's  brothers  came  to 
spend  the  night  "and  brought  with  him  all  his  spirits 
and  gaiety,  diverting  them  wonderfully  with  the 
pleasant  description  of  the  late  engagement  and  act- 
ing with  his  accustomed  humor  and  gestures  the 
panic  which  had  seized  the  enemy  the  instant  they 
heard  the  report  of  the  English  guns." 

It  was  proper  that  Captain  Wilson  should  jour- 
ney to  the  island  of  Pelew  to  return  the  royal  visit, 
and  this  was  done  with  becoming  ceremony  on  both 
sides,  banquets  and  music,  and  the  attendance  of 
many  chiefs  in  the  thatched  village  and  the  unpre- 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     403 

tentious  palace.  It  was  a  smiling  landscape,  very 
lush  and  green,  with  cultivated  fields  of  yams  and 
cocoanuts  and  a  contented  people.  The  war  with 
the  islanders  of  Artingall  was  unfinished,  it  seemed, 
and  they  deserved  severe  chastisement  because  of 
several  murders  committed.  Another  expedition 
was  therefore  planned,  and  ten  of  the  British  sailors 
took  part  with  Captain  Wilson's  approval.  The 
details  were  arranged  during  this  meeting  at  Pelew. 
A  naval  action  was  fought,  and  the  strategy  of 
General  Raa  Kook  was  so  brilliant  that  it  deserves 
mention.  The  enemy's  squadrons  of  canoes  held  a 
position  close  under  the  land  and  refused  to  sail  out 
ind  join  battle.  Raa  Kook  thereupon  detached  one 
of  his  own  squadrons  and  concealed  it  behind  a 
promontory  during  the  night.  In  the  morning  the 
main  fleet  of  canoes  closed  in,  led  by  King  Abba 
Thulle,  and  fought  at  long  range.  Pretending  to 
be  thrown  into  disorder,  he  ordered  the  conch-shells 
to  sound  the  retreat,  and  this  main  fleet  fled  sea- 
ward. In  hot  pursuit  dashed  the  squadrons  of  Ar- 
tingall. No  sooner  were  they  well  clear  of  the  land 
than  Raa  Kook  told  his  hidden  squadron  to  advance 
and  cut  the  enemy  off.  The  luckless  warriors  of 
Artingall  were  between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea, 
attacked  ahead  and  astern,  and  mercilessly  bucketed 


404     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

about  until  they  broke  and  scattered.  Many  pris- 
oners were  taken,  as  well  as  canoes,  and  this  cam- 
paign was  a  closed  incident. 

The  interesting  statement  is  made  that  Abba 
Thulle  had  previously  notified  the  King  of  Artingall 
that  in  a  few  days  he  intended  to  offer  him  battle, 
and  also  that  it  was  a  maxim  of  his  never  to  attack 
an  enemy  in  the  dark  or  take  him  unawares.  This 
chivalrous  doctrine  is  not  expounded  in  detail  by 
the  narrator  who  compiled  the  personal  stories  of 
Captain  Wilson  and  his  officers,  but  it  finds  explicit 
confirmation  in  the  memoirs  of  another  gallant 
sailor  who  visited  the  Pelew  Islands  a  few  years 
later.  This  was  Captain  Amasa  Delano,  an  Amer- 
ican shipmaster,  who  also  formed  a  strong  friend- 
ship with  King  Abba  Tbulle  and  felt  the  greatest 
admiration  for  him. 

Captain  Delano  was  a  mariner  whose  career  em- 
braced all  the  hazards  and  vicissitudes  that  could  be 
encountered  in  that  rugged  and  heroic  era  of  en- 
deavor. In  Macao  he  fell  in  with  Commodore  John 
McClure  of  the  English  Navy,  who  was  in  command 
of  an  expedition  setting  out  to  explore  a  part  of  the 
South  Seas,  including  the  Pelew  Islands,  New 
Guinea,  New  Holland,  and  the  Spice  Islands.  The 
Englishman  took  a  fancy  to  this  resourceful  Yankee 
seaman  and  offered  him  the  pay  and  station  of  a 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     405 

lieutenant.  While  the  ship  tarried  at  the  Pelews, 
the  chronic  war  against  the  rebels  of  Artingall  had 
flared  up  again,  and  Captain  Delano  had  this  to  say 
of  AbbaThulle: 

The  king,  according  to*  his  usual  generosity,  had  sent 
word  to  the  people  of  Artingall  that  he  should  be  there 
in  three,  days  for  war.  Although  I  was  a  Christian  and 
in  the  habit  of  assuming  the  Christian  peoples  to  be  su- 
perior to  these  pagans  in  the  principles  of  virtue  and  be- 
nevolence, I  could  not  refrain  from  remonstrating  with  the 
king.  I  told  him  that  Christian  nations  considered  it  as 
within  the  acknowledged  system  of  lawful  and  honorable 
warfare  to  use  strategems  against  enemies  and  to  fall  upon 
them  whenever  it  was  possible  and  take  them  by  surprise. 
He  replied  that  war  was  horrid  enough  when  pursued  in 
the  most  open  and  magnanimous  manner,  and  that  al- 
though he  thought  very  highly  of  the  English,  still  their 
principles  in  this  respect  did  not  obtain  his  approbation 
and  he  believed  his  own  mode  of  warfare  more  politic  as 
well  as  more  just. 

He  said  that  if  he  were  to  destroy  his  enemies  while  they 
were  asleep,  others  would  have  good  reason  to  retaliate 
the  same  base  conduct  upon  his  subjects  and  thus  multiply 
evils,  whereas  regular  ajid  open  warfare  might  be  the 
means  of  a  speedy  peace  without  barbarity.  Should  he 
subdue  his  rebellious  subjects  by  strategy  and  surprise, 
they  would  hate  both  him  and  his  measures  and  would 
never  be  faithful  and  happy  although  they  might  fear  his 
pawer  and  unwillingly  obey  his  laws. 

Sentiments  of  this  elevated  character  excited  my  ad- 
miration the  more  for  this  excellent  pagan  and  made  an 


406     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

impression  upon  my  mind  which  time  will  never  efface. 
Christians  might  learn  of  Abba  Thulle  a  fair  comment 
upon  the  best  principles  of  their  own  religion. 

Captain  Henry  Wilson  of  the  Antelope  was 
therefore  not  alone  in  his  high  estimate  of  the  char- 
acter of  this  island  ruler.  The  English  castaways, 
industriously  framing  and  planking  their  trim  little 
schooner,  had  many  evidences  of  a  sentiment  both 
delicate  and  noble.  For  instance,  the  royal  canoes 
came  bringing  many  cocoanuts  ready  for  planting. 
At  the  king's  desire  they  were  set  out  to  grow  and 
form  a  wall  of  green  around  the  cove  where  the 
camp  stood.  It  was  noticed  that  while  covering 
each  nut  with  earth,  the  king's  brothers  murmured 
certain  words.  They  were  dedicatory,  it  was  ex- 
plained, meaning  that  there  would  be  fruit  for  the 
captain  and  his  friends  whenever  they  should  return 
to  the  island,  and  should  other  strangers  be  wrecked 
on  this  shore,  they  would  thank  the  English  for  their 
refreshment. 

The  schooner  was  finished  and  launched  without 
mishap  and  christened  the  Ooralong.  The  ship's 
company  had  been  almost  four  months  on  the  island, 
and  were  all  fit  and  strong  and  happy.  The 
anchors,  cables,  and  other  fittings  were  placed  on 
board,  and  it  remained  only  to  put  in  the  stores  and 
water-casks.  Then  it  was  that  King  Abba  Thulle 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     407 

sent  word  to  Captain  Wilson  that  he  wished  to  in- 
vest him  with  the  order  of  the  bone  bracelet  and  to 
knight  him  as  a  chief  of  the  highest  rank.  The  cere- 
mony was  impressive,  a  great  concourse  of  natives 
attending  in  profound  silence,  and  when  the  brace- 
let was  slipped  on  the  wrist  of  Captain  Wilson,  the 
king  told  him  that  "the  emblem  should  be  rubbed 
bright  every  day  and  preserved  as  a  testimony  of  the 
rank  he  held  amongst  them,  that  this  mark  of  dig- 
nity must  on  every  occasion  be  defended  valiantly, 
nor  suffered  to  be  torn  from  his  arm  but  with  the 
loss  of  life." 

At  last  the  schooner  Ooralong,  taut  and  sea- 
worthy, swung  at  anchor  with  sails  bent  and  every- 
thing  ready  for  the  voyage.  To  the  pleasure  and 
surprise  of  Captain  Wilson,  the  king  announced 
that  he  had  resolved  to  send  his  second  son,  Lee  Boo, 
to  England  if  this  was  agreeable  to  the  commander. 
Although  his  subjects  respected  his  knowledge,  ex- 
plained Abba  Thulle,  he  felt  keenly  his  own  insig- 
nificance at  seeing  the  common  English  seamen  ex- 
ercise talents  so  far  surpassing  him.  It  was  certain 
that  his  son  would  learn  many  things  which  might 
greatly  benefit  his  people.  And  so  this  young 
prince  of  the  Pelew  Islands  sailed  on  a  marvelous 
voyage  to  lands  unknown.  In  one  of  the  farewell 
conversations,  the  king  said  to  Captain  Wilson: 


108     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

I  would  wish  you  to  inform  Lee  Boo  of  all  things  which 
he  ought  to  know  and  to  make  him  an  Englishman.  The 
distress  of  parting  with  my  beloved  son  I  have  frequently 
considered.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  distant  countries 
he  must  pass  through,  differing  much  from  his  own,  may 
expose  him  to  dangers,  as  well  as  to  diseases  that  are 
unknown  to  us  here,  in  consequence  of  which  he  may  die. 
I  have  prepared  my  thoughts  to  this.  I  know  that  death 
is  to  all  men  inevitable,  and  whether  my  son  meets  this 
event  at  Pelew  or  elsewhere  is  immaterial.  I  am  satisfied, 
from  what  I  have  observed  of  the  humanity  of  your  char- 
acter, that  if  he  is  sick  you  will  be  kind  to  him.  And 
should  that  fate  happen  which  your  utmost  care  cannot 
prevent,  let  it  not  hinder  you  or  your  brother  or  your 
son  or  any  of  your  countrymen  from  returning  here.  I 
shall  receive  you  or  any  of  your  people  in  friendship  and 
rejoice  to  see  you  again. 

Abba  Thulle  promised  to  cherish  and  preserve  a 
copper  plate  affixed  to  a  tree  near  the  cove,  upon 
which  was  cut  the  following  inscription : 

The  Honorable 
English  East  India  Company's  Ship 

The  ANTELOPE. 

HENRY  WILSON,  Commander, 

Was  lost  upon  the  reef  north  of  this  island 

In  the  night  between  the  9th  and  10th  of 

August ; 

Who  here  built  a  vessel, 

And  sailed  from  hence 

The  12th  day  of  November,  1783. 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS     409 

When  the  little  schooner  hoisted  the  union  jack 
and  fired  a  swivel  in  token  of  good-by,  the  king  and 
his  young  son  came  aboard  from  a  canoe,  to  be 
together  until  the  vessel  had  passed  out  through  the 
channel  of  the  reef.  A  multitude  of  natives  fol- 
lowed in  canoes,  offering  gifts  of  fruit  and  flowers, 
yams  and  cocoanuts,  which  could  not  be  accepted  for 
lack  of  space.  Gently  they  were  told  this,  but  each 
held  up  a  little  something,  crying :  "Only  this  from 
me !  Only  this  from  me  I"  Other  canoes  were  sent 
ahead  to  pilot  the  schooner  or  to  buoy  the  reef. 
When  it  came  time  for  the  king  to  summon  his  own 
canoe  he  said  farewell  to  his  son,  and  then  embraced 
Captain  Wilson  with  great  tenderness,  saying: 

"You  are  happy  because  you  are  going  home.  I 
am  happy  to  find  you  are  happy,  but  still  very  un- 
happy myself  to  see  you  going  away." 

In  this  manner  two  rare  men  saw  the  last  of  each 
other.  Captain  Hemy  Wilson  was  far  too  modest 
to  claim  credit  to  himself,  but  it  is  quite  obvious 
that  the  happy  ending  of  this  tragedy  of  the  sea 
was  largely  due  to  his  own  serene  courage,  kindli- 
ness, send  ability  as  a  seaman  and  a  commander. 
An  inferior  type  of  man  would  have  made  a  sorry 
mess  of  the  whole  affair. 

The  schooner  pluckily  made  her  way  through  fair 
weather  and  foul  until  she  safely  reached  the  road- 


410     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

stead  of  Macao.  There  the  little  vessel  was  found 
to  be  so  stanch  that  she  was  sold  for  seven  hundred 
Spanish  dollars.  Captain  Wilson  then  took  pas- 
sage for  England  in  an  East  Indiaman,  and  the 
young  prince  Lee  Boo  went  with  him.  Arrived 
home,  the  commander  made  the  guest  a  member  of 
his  own  household,  and  sent  him  to  school  at  Rother- 
hite,  in  London.  He  was  of  a  bright  mind  and 
eager  to  learn,  and  his  experiences  and  impressions 
make  most  entertaining  reading. 

Alas !  he  fell  ill  with  small-pox  after  less  than  a 
year  of  exile  from  his  distant  island,  and  died  in  a 
few  days.  At  the  foot  of  his  bed  stood  honest  Tom 
Rose,  the  sailor  who  had  served  as  an  interpreter. 
At  the  sight  of  his  tears,  the  boyish  prince  rebuked 
him,  saying, 

"Why  should  he  be  crying  because  Lee  Boo  die?" 
The  doctor  who  attended  him  wrote  in  a  letter  to  an 
official  of  the  East  India  Company: 

He  expressed  all  his  feelings  to  me  in  the  most  forcible 
and  pathetic  manner,  put  my  head  upon  his  heart,  leant 
his  head  on  my  arm,  and  explained  his  uneasiness  in 
breathing1.  But  when  I  was  gone  he  complained  no  more, 
showing  that  he  complained  with  a  view  to  be  relieved, 
not  to  be  pitied.  In  short,  living  or  dying,  he  has  given 
me  a  lesson  which  I  shall  never  forget  and  surely  for  pa- 
tience and  fortitude  he  was  an  example  worthy  the  imi- 
tation of  a  Stoic. 


KING  OF  THE  PELEW  ISLANDS    4,11 

Thus  died  a  worthy  son  of  his  father,  the  good 
king  Abba  Thulle  of  the  Pelew  Islands.  Over  his 
grave  in  England  was  placed  a  stone  with  this  in- 
scription: 

To  the  Memory 

of  PRINCE  LEE  BOO, 

A  native  of  the  Pelew,  or  Palos  Islands, 

and  Son  to  Abba  Thulle,  Rupack  or  King 

of  the  Island  Coorooraa ; 
Who  departed  this  life  on  the  27th  of  December,  1784, 

Aged  20  Years. 
This  Stone  is  inscribed 

by  the  Honorable  United  East  India  Company 

as  a  Testimony  of  esteem  for  the  humane  and  kind 

Treatment  afforded  by  his  Father  to  the  crew  of 

their  ship,  the  ANTELOPE,  Captain  WILSON, 

which  was  wrecked  off  that  Island 
In  the  Night  of  the  9th  of  August,  1783. 


Stop,  Reader,  stop — let  NATURE  claim  a  Tear — 
A  Prince  of  Mine,  Lee  Boo,  lies  bury'd  here. 

As  a  memorial  of  the  Antelope  packet  and  the 
fortunate  sojourn  of  her  company  in  the  Pelew 
Islands,  a  stately  volume  was  prepared  at  the  direc- 
tion of  the  East  India  Company.  This  passage  is 
worthy  to  be  quoted  in  remembrance  of  King  Abba 
Thulle: 

The  nigbt  before  the  schooner  sailed,  the  king  asked 
Captain  Wilson  how  long  it  might  be  before  his  son's  re- 


412     LOST  SHIPS  AND  LONELY  SEAS 

turn  to  Pelew.  Being  told  that  it  would  be  about  thirty 
moons,  or  perhaps  longer,  Abba  Thulle  drew  from  his  bas- 
ket a  piece  of  line  and  after  making  thirty  knots  in  it,  a 
little  distance  from  each  other,  left  a  long  space  and  then 
adding  six  other  knots  carefully  put  it  by. 

Thirty  months  to  be  counted  one  by  one,  and  six 
more  in  the  event  of  longer  delay  before  the  return 
of  Lee  Boo !  A  hundred  and  forty  years  have  gone 
since  the  king  of  the  Pelew  Islands  and  Captain 
Henry  Wilson  of  the  Antelope  were  brothers  in 
spirit,  and  the  curse  of  civilization  has  long  since 
blighted  the  manners  and  the  morals  of  those  simple 
people  of  the  Pacific ;  but  this  story  of  a  shipwreck 
survives  with  a  certain  noble  distinction,  and  it  helps 
to  redeem  the  failures  of  weaker  men  to  play  the 
gallant  part  amid  the  cruel  adversities  of  the  sea. 


THE  END 


GENERAL  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA— BERKELEY 

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MAR  6     1954  j_U 
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REC'D 


NOV  12  1957 


21-100m-l, '54  (1887sl6)  476 


REC'D  LD 

AUG6   '64-iOPIYI 
JUN01  1999 


NOV  18  1958  L 
LIBRARY  UK 

AUG  11 1982 


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